


Another Magical Mission

by ProfessorFrankly



Series: It Might Be Magic [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-01 19:50:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 35,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2785604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorFrankly/pseuds/ProfessorFrankly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A "routine" intelligence-gathering mission in the Far East unearths magical involvement in a mundane weapons factory. How will Q and Bond avert disaster? And now that news of their bond has spread in the magical world, how can the pair maintain their privacy? The second big mission and the third in the series that started with "It Might Be Magic." Contains SLASH.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Discovery

**Ch 1: An Unexpected Discovery**

 

“Ten feet down the corridor, 007, and you’ll find the door to the main office,” Q intoned quietly, his voice transmitting the information directly to James’ ear. “It’s on the left. Intel suggests the main server resides in the supply closet attached to that office. Plug in the memory stick, and I can hack it from here.”

 

“Acknowledged,” James said quietly, moving quickly and silently toward the door that appeared just where Q said it would. A quick test of the door showed it to be locked. “Using lock picks,” he murmured, pulling them out of an inner pocket, and making short work of the office lock. Cautiously, he stepped into the room, finding it clear. Two doors, one to his left and one to his right, showed two rooms adjacent to the main office. “I have two doors here, Q.”

 

“Try the one on your left,” Q said.

 

It was unlocked. James opened it quickly, glanced around, and noted that it looked like a standard office. “Office, Q,” he said. “I’ll try the other.”

 

“Acknowledged, 007.”

 

Swiftly James backtracked, and tried the other door. It, too, opened without effort, but it revealed a space identical to the office on the other side of the room. “Interesting,” James said.

 

“What, 007?”

 

“Identical offices. Mirrors, down to the last detail,” James said. “No supply closet. And definitely no server. And we’re apparently out of doors.”

 

“Intel faulty?” Q wondered aloud.

 

“Maybe.” James took a slow look around. “Should I try my special bracelet?”

 

Q smirked. “It should negate any of the special tech that might be concealing something in either office, though intel did not suggest that would be a factor here.”

 

James walked further into the second office, tapping the platinum wrist cuff he wore on his left wrist. It worked as a magic dampener, and if there was magic in the room, it should allow James to at least see that it was there. He strolled toward the desk, and as he approached it, it glimmered.

 

Glimmered.

 

“Well, that’s put a wrench in things, a bit,” James said. “It looks like special tech has been employed in here.”

Q swore quietly, then cleared his throat. “Can you find the server with the aid of your tech?” he asked, conscious that the channel was being monitored by others in Q branch, most of whom remained ignorant of the existence of magic.

 

“Trying now.”

 

Aware that what he was seeing was not real, James forced himself to walk a grid across the room one direction, then the other, looking for what underlay the apparent glamour that lay on the office space. He paused in one corner, where it appeared nothing existed, and lay a hand on what became a solid object--the server. “Found it, I think.” Closing his eyes to eliminate the false visual input, James ran his hands long the exterior of the server to find a USB port. “I have a port. Shall I proceed?”

 

“Yes, 007, but exercise caution,” Q said quietly, monitoring the hallway security cameras. “You appear to be alone, but with special tech, I can’t say with certainty.”

 

“Acknowledged,” James said, and pressed the memory stick Q had sent with him into the USB port, automatically triggering the copy program that would transit the contents of the server to a remote location that Q could use to distill the information at his leisure. “Counting thirty seconds from now.”

 

The men were silent as the clock ticked down, and Q checked the remote computer to find it had successfully cloned the server by the 25-second mark. “We have the intel, 007,” Q said quietly. “And you’re still alone. You’re clear to get out there.”

 

“On my way, then, Q,” James said, pulling the stick from the port and tucking it back into his inner jacket pocket. He made his way out of the offices, re-locking the front door behind him as he left, then quickly and confidently made his way out of the building, keeping to the shadows outside the renovated offices as he walked quickly to the car he’d parked three blocks from his target, keeping an eye on his surroundings as he did so.

 

“You’re clear, 007,” Q said, as James unlocked his sedan and slid into the driver’s seat. “It’s back to the hotel for you.”

 

“Is the line secure, Q?”

 

Q raised an eyebrow, and glanced around the branch, then tapped a few keys to restrict the communication link to just the two of them. “It’s just us, 007.”

 

“We had no indication that special tech would be needed on this one?” James clarified.

 

“None at all, 007, or I’d have sent in more of my own special tech,” Q answered. “It helps that you knew the possibility existed.”

“Couldn’t have completed the mission without it, no,” James agree.

 

“I’ll start to do some digging,” Q said, flipping to another screen. “This should have been straightforward. Our inside person has seen that server in that room, which suggests that your evening’s entertainment is a recent development, or a special security measure set up at night. Whether it’s recent or not, clearly someone’s been flouting the statute for security purposes.”

 

“Is that legal?”

 

“Depends,” Q said, pulling up the employee database for the company--Zanetech--that James had just infiltrated. “If it was what it seemed, that is, a basic glamour meant to disguise and not alert the mundane to the presence of something, then it’s probably fine. In this context, though, where the mundane know a server exists in that room? Awkward questions would be asked if it wasn’t dispelled first thing in the morning.”

 

James, driving through the streets of Singapore with an almost-worrying familiarity, grunted. “That suggests the special person involved is likely the first one in during the day and the last one out.”

 

“If they care about the statute at all, yes,” Q agreed. “We’ve got four possible candidates for that, according to the information sent by our insider and verified by the databases you just got me access to. You lovely man, you.”

 

“You only love me for my ability to get you fresh data,” James complained, a bit of a grin pulling at his lips.

 

Q lowered his voice. “That and your delicious body, of course,” he flirted back.

 

“Oh, of course,” James purred. “Will I see you later?”

 

“If I can get out of here at a reasonable hour, love, I’ll join you. But you did just hand me hours of data to analyze,” Q pointed out.

 

James sighed as he pulled up to his hotel, got out of the car, and tossed his keys to the valet, still on duty at 3 a.m. “It’s already after 7 p.m. in London, darling. I’d think you could knock off for the night soon, any way. Isn’t there a labor law or something?”

 

Q laughed. “You know very well that doesn’t apply.” He tapped a few more keys. “Right, I’ve started a distance analysis and a few scripts to download the data to my laptop for morning. Are you at your hotel yet?”

 

“Just arrived,” James said, heading toward the elevator bank.

 

“I’ll see you in your room.”

 

“Looking forward to it.”

 

James made his way up to the 23rd floor of the modern glass-and-flash building, and unlocked his hotel room door just as he heard a soft pop from the other side. He knew it was likely his husband, but exercised due caution as he entered the suite, anyway. When magic becomes involved in a mission, he had reason to know, an overabundance of caution was more than a good idea--it was a necessity.

 

Fortunately, he instantly recognized the messy mop of black hair of the person who had just popped into the suite. “Harry, love, did you miss me?” James asked, stepping forward to kiss his bonded lightly. Bright green eyes gleamed as Q replied, “Always.”

 

IMBM

 

A few long, deep kisses and an orgasm each later, James and Harry curled up together on the luxurious sheets of the expensive Singapore hotel. “What news from England, darling?” James asked softly.

 

Harry stirred a bit. “Not much new since you went on mission a week ago. Though you did miss the excitement of my getting an owl at Q-branch and having to explain that away.”

 

James chuckled. “Your friends and family know better, don’t they?”

 

“Yes, and I have an owl ward up around the branch, too, so this was a complete surprise. I explained it away as an experiment, and I strengthened the ward, but it was an interesting morning,” Harry yawned a bit. “It came from the Ministry of Magic’s Office of Muggle Affairs, which makes it doubly irritating, as those folks ought to know better than to send owls into the mundane world.”

 

“What did they want?” James asked.

 

“To remind me that as I’m bonded to a Muggle, I’m required to present you to their office for registration, so that you’re authorized to know about magic,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “It’s an archaic law, but it’s meant to protect you from overzealous idiots who want to keep all mundane folk from knowing anything.”

James shrugged. “I haven’t a problem with it, other than my anonymity in that world will be sunk.”

“It kind of already is, what with your association with me and the Weasleys. I think George and Ron are having way too much fun fueling rumors about you,” Harry smirked.

 

James rolled his eyes, and tucked Harry closer into his shoulder. “I particularly liked the one where I’m actually a wild hippogryff tamer.”

 

“Really? I liked exotic dancer, but maybe that’s because of the images it brings up in my head,” Harry said, then bit James lightly on the collarbone.

 

“Mmmmm,” James hummed. “I’ll only dance for you, darling.”

 

Harry untucked himself and rose to his elbows, looking into James’ cerulean blue eyes. “That’s right. You’re mine, and all your dance moves belong to me.”

 

James reached out with his right hand and pulled Harry’s face to his. “All my moves belong to you, Harry,” he growled, and kissed him deeply, sweeping his tongue into Harry’s mouth and holding him close as they sank into each other for round two.

 

IMBM

 

“Right, then,” Harry gasped out, sweaty, sated, and panting. “When are you coming home, again?”

 

James got up, fetched a warm, wet washcloth from the bathroom, and came back, cleaning them both gently. “You’d know better than I, darling,” he reminded his husband. “Primary objective is complete, but we’ve uncovered magical involvement, so that means we’ve got more digging to do here, I think, does it not?”

 

Harry reveled in the care James showed him, then tossed the washcloth aside and drew James back into his arms, letting him rest against Harry’s chest. “Probably. I’ve got a script running to match the employee database against known magicals in the area, but that will be of limited use. We’ll likely need to get a magical into the company itself.”

 

“Not you, darling,” James said flatly.

 

“Of course not,” Harry said, absently stroking through James’ hair. “I’m an internationally famous magical in that world. Undercover wouldn’t work at all. Alec’s a possibility; his training is coming right along. Severus would be better if he’d consent. Kingsley might have an idea.” He paused, then continued. “I’m more concerned about the Zanetech intel that suggests they’re making WMDs, and the fact that there’s magical involvement. It smacks of the Ouroboros, and I thought we got rid of them.”

 

“It’s possible they’re not the only ones to have had that idea, Harry,” James pointed out. “For whatever reason, there’s a faction in the magical world that really has a problem with the existence of the mundane in general.”

 

“It’s more that they want control of the magical world,” Harry observed. “The fact that there’s magical involvement in a mundane company that’s making advanced weaponry is what concerns me. I sent a message off to Kingsley and M before I came here, so that we can meet about it tomorrow. As of now, standing mission orders apply.”

 

“Right,” James said, sighing deeply. “Stationed in Singapore and awaiting further orders it is.”

 

Harry kissed the top of James’ head. “Cheer up, love. I’m only an apparation away, if there’s time for me to visit.”

 

“True,” James conceded. “There are advantages to being bonded to the world’s most powerful wizard.” The comment earned him a light slap on the head. “What? According to Kingsley, and every other magical I’ve ever met, it’s true.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “There’s no real reliable scale for magical power, beyond a certain point, James, as you know.”

 

“And you’re off that scale, darling, as you know,” James pointed out. “Casual apparation to Singapore is not something most magicals could do.”

 

Harry tapped the back of James’ head again, and tipped his face back up. “Just be grateful, eh?”

 

James grinned at him. “I’m always grateful for you.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2: More Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q and James get some quality time, and a mission is laid out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut and fluff warning for the second section of this piece, between the line breaks. Avoid if you don't care for fairly explicit m/m slash.

**Ch. 2: More Questions**

Q reviewed the messages left on his tablet as James answered the door for room service.

 

The eight-hour time zone difference meant the pair could eat a hearty brunch together before Q headed back to London, but that didn’t mean he could slack off on the data crunching.

 

“Anything new while we were sleeping?” James asked as he set a plate of scrambled eggs, whole-grain toast and fresh fruit in front of his spouse.

 

Q hummed. “I’ve got a few names. Our insider slept through last night, obviously. We sent you in so that we could divert any suspicion that might fall on our insider, but I did get an encrypted response to my note of last night. The main office workers aren’t known to me, but I’ll cross-check with the ICW this afternoon, local time.”

 

“Meanwhile?” James bit into a chunk of star fruit.

 

“Meanwhile, M has been alerted to magical involvement, and is setting up a meeting with Kingsley for 8 a.m., London time. I have five hours before I need to be there.” Q set his tablet aside and dug into his breakfast. “The intel is interesting, though. The searches confirm blueprints for a number of biological weapons delivery systems that could wreak havoc if deployed in populated areas.”

 

“Lovely,” James commented. “Is the company simply mercenary? Or is there an ulterior, nationalistic motive?”

 

“Hard to tell at this point,” Q said. “It looks like it’s pure capitalism, but we needed the intel on the server to track the source of the company’s funding and truly identify the head of it. Our insider could only tell us that the president of Zanetech did not appear to be the one truly in charge of the company’s work, and that all the different pieces and parts of the weapons they’re allegedly making could add up to WMDs--which, of course, MI6 is interested in for purely defensive reasons.”

 

James picked up his coffee and sipped. “And adding magical involvement?”

 

“It’s a complex chain we need to unravel,” Q allowed.

 

James sat back. “So what shall we do with the time you have left here?”

 

“This place have a pool? I’m seriously sick of London winter.”

 

“Sunshine, it is.”

 

IMBM

 

They spent an hour in the sunshine, basking about the pool, occasionally dipping into the cool water, and generally enjoying each other’s company.

 

“Everyday I stop to think about it, I’m incredibly grateful I’m bonded to you,” James told Q quietly, reclining in a lounge chair next to his spouse’s. “And not only because you’re the love of my life and my other half; but because I don’t know how many other couples who have jobs like ours can sustain their relationship without the special skill set that allows you to be right here with me for a few hours without the hassle.”

 

Q grinned. “There’s always sat phones and Skype, but I confess I do prefer to simply pop by.” He reached for James’ hand, lacing their fingers together. “Nothing substitutes for the feel of you against me.”

 

James’ blue eyes darkened. “Keep talking like that, and we’ll be cutting our sunshine time short.”

 

Q leaned over and whispered in James’ ear. “Promise?”

 

James squeezed Q’s hand, then fluidly stood, pulling Q up with him. “Absolutely,” he growled back.

 

Quickly and quietly, they moved through the hotel, taking the elevator back up to James’ suite. They barely made it through their front door before James pressed Q back against it, taking Q’s mouth with his own, and running his hands down Q’s side to cup his firm buttocks. James swept in with his tongue, battling Q’s for dominance as the pair devoured each other, heat rising between the two of them so quickly they almost couldn’t keep up.

 

“Wanted to take my time,” James broke off the kiss, his hands skimming Q’s trunks off and branding his skin with his touch. “Wanted to gentle you down, open you up, and fuck you until you scream.”

 

“What’s stopping you?” Q breathed back, using his own hands to shove off James’s Speedos.

 

“Fair point,” James allowed, then scooped Q up and bore him back into the bedroom, tossing him on the bed and reaching for the lube on the nightstand.

 

The night before, the couple had satisfied themselves quickly with hands and mouths, not bothering to take the time for the prep that penetration would require. But they had time, they had a bed, and they’d taken the edge off the night before.

 

James petted Q, soothing his skin with his hands, before sucking down his cock and bringing a hand to the tight ring of muscle behind it, stroking lightly with lube-covered fingers, and taking time, as promised, to open him up. James kept Q on edge, sucking, soothing and stroking as he fingered him open, reveling in the sobs and moans Q couldn’t help.

 

“Please, James, please!” Q begged as three fingers stroked him from the inside. “I need you!”

 

James pulled off, sat back, lubed himself up, and pushed home, riding Q hard and fast as they worked together to completion.

 

Q did scream, and as he came, James gave a growl of triumph, stroking into him quickly a bare few times before coming himself. He buried his face in Q’s neck, panting hard, matching Q’s own breathing, and struggling to calm down. Q languidly ran his fingers through James’ hair, pressed a kiss to his temple, and deliberately slowed his own breathing as much as he could.

 

Eventually, James mumbled into Q’s neck. “I don’t know how that keeps getting better, but it does.”

 

Q smiled, still running his hand through James’ hair. “I quite agree. Though I’ll probably do mission briefings standing today.”

 

James snorted. “Needs must, I suppose.” He leaned up a bit, taking his weight off of his partner and looking down into his partner’s green eyes. “I love you.”

 

Q smiled back. “I love you, too.”

 

IMBM

 

“It’s still early in England, but some of these scans are yielding results I need to compile for the 8 a.m. meeting, so I suppose I should get back to the office,” Q sighed over his tablet.

 

The couple had showered and dressed, and Q was looking over the intel gathered by James’ breaking-and-entering the night before.

 

“Our insider is not in the know regarding magic, so we have little to go on to identify who’s aiding Zanetech,” Q observed. “But some of these blueprints … James, can you be available at 4 p.m., local, for a video conference call?”

 

“Of course.” James sprawled over the couch in the sitting area of the suite. He hadn’t dressed in one of his trademark suits yet; he wore a white button down shirt, the top button open, and a pair of khakis. “I’m a bored businessman on vacation; I’ll enjoy breaking the tedium of leisure with a conference call.”

 

Q rolled his eyes. “I thought you broke the ‘tedium of leisure’ with me?”

 

“Ah, but you’re not actually here, darling,” James pointed out, idly picking up the remote for the widescreen television. “Unless you’ve been seen by someone relevant, or on camera in the pool area. In that case, you’re the fancy bit I picked up for a little slap-and-tickle.”

 

“Ah, well, as long as we’re clear on my role,” Q said drily, making a final note on his tablet and leaning down to kiss James. “Stay safe, love.”

 

James took advantage of Q’s kiss, deepening it, before drawing back and letting him go. “Always.”

Q smiled at him, stepped back, turned his heel, and disappeared with a pop.

 

IMBM

 

As Q walked into M’s office for the 8 a.m. meeting, he was surprised to see Severus Snape seated beside Kingsley Shacklebolt.

 

“Severus,” Q acknowledged with a nod. “How are you?”

 

Severus gave a half smile. “Well enough. Shacklebolt thought I might be of use.”

 

M cleared his throat. “As did I. Thank you for coming. Q, are you ready for the briefing?”  
  


“Yes, though let me connect 007,” Q replied, setting up a tablet on a stand and tapping the screen to bring up the video with James.

 

Severus eyed the back of Q’s neck, which was flushed red, as Q greeted his partner, and aimed the camera and screen at the rest of the group. “Get a little sun, Q?”

 

“Not sure how he could have, given he’s been practically living in headquarters,” M said crisply.

 

Q’s face remained blank, as did James’, so Severus only nodded. “As you say.”

 

“007, you’re being read in to this meeting because of your current mission status in Singapore,” M said. “We need to make some decisions about the next course of action, and as you’re in the know and on-site, it made sense to keep you in the loop.”

 

“Of course, sir.”

 

Kingsley leaned forward. “What’s going on?”

 

M cleared his throat. “Three months ago, an intern in MI6 human resources told her supervisor about a sister that had stumbled across information at her company that made her uncomfortable. When pressed, our intern said her sister was concerned that the company she worked for, Zanetech, was hiding production of some sort of weapon in the blueprints for a heating and cooling system it intended to market. The sister at the company, an engineer, was a new hire, with a newly minted degree in electrical engineering, and had been hired away from Britain to work in Singapore.

 

“It became clear to the young engineer that the project she was hired to do, the H/C system, had extraneous parts. In an attempt to re-model the system for better efficiency, she stumbled across a secondary system within the piece that could theoretically deliver focused and concentrated air-borne materials through the system with great accuracy and efficiency. The engineer became concerned, brought the matter up to her supervisor to ask about the issue, and was brushed off with an explanation about air freshening and the like.

 

“The engineer accepted the explanation, and continued with her work, but mentioned her concerns to her sister the intern, who shared them with us. We sent 007 in last night to infiltrate the headquarters and clone its servers so that we could get a better idea about what we’re dealing with. Q has that data.

 

“Over the course of the mission, it became clear that some sort of magic was involved in concealing the server. 007 managed to ‘see’ through this concealment with a device gifted to him by Q, and completed the mission. But it left us with more questions than answers.

 

“Q, what did the data reveal?”

 

Q took over. “As an engineer myself, I was able to see what our insider also saw--focused airborne delivery systems built right into standard heating and cooling systems that are also state-of-the-art. In and of itself, the air freshener explanation would make sense, but our larger concern are the contracts, buried on the server, with pharmaceutical companies. Together, the data suggest that the pharmaceutical companies are providing substances that could be disbursed via the air delivery systems in the H/C. Quite dicey. When added to the contracts, also on the server, that show the H/C systems have already been installed at office buildings commercial centers in London, New York, The Hague, Singapore, and Sydney, we have a problem.”

 

M nodded. “Data suggest these buildings can be quickly overtaken with whatever pharmaceuticals the manufacturers wish to pump through their H/C systems.”

 

“To what purpose?” Kingsley asked.

 

“Well, that’s the issue, I think,” Q said, “and one of the reasons we’re concerned. We don’t know. The sales of the H/C systems have been ongoing for the last five years, and installed in new construction. The contracts with pharmaceuticals have also been ongoing for the last five years, and the specific drug formulations are not listed on the contracts, so that’s a bit of data we need yet. If we can get that information, we’ll have a more clear idea of what the purpose would be.”

 

“The fact that there’s at least one magical involved--in Singapore, to conceal the server--is a red flag,” M continued. “Is it an isolated employee adding a bit of protection without informing his or her employer? Or is it indicative of a larger plot?”

 

“Given magical involvement,” Q added, “we decided it would be prudent to read you in, Kingsley, and ask for magical assistance to counter what might be found in the field.”

Kingsley nodded slowly. “So we have what appears to be a global plot of some kind to overtake certain businesses in some way, for an unknown purpose, and there’s magical involvement?”

 

“In a nutshell, yes.” M nodded.

 

Severus leaned forward. “What would you ask of me?”

 

M cleared his throat. “You’re already our primary magical consultant, besides Q; I’d like you to serve in that role again, and if necessary go into the field. Our magical double-oh, whom you know, is still in magical training. I’d like you to help step that training up in case we need to send him in, as well. Our primary need right now is to find out what drugs are being produced for delivery, and to what purpose. And our non-magical double-oh will need a magical partner on this mission.”

 

Severus nodded. “Business is slow at the moment, anyway. I already meet with 006 twice a week, when he’s in London, for defense training. I can increase that. Where will you be sending 007 next?”

 

James, actively listening on his video connection, raised an eyebrow. “Assuming I’ve gathered everything we need from this location.”

 

Q nodded. “There’s no indication of an additional server in Singapore, 007.”

 

“I’ve contacted the CIA regarding the one drug company in their borders with which Zanetech is doing business, and they’ve assigned an analyst to determine what it could be used for. The other major company is located in Australia, and we have permission from their government to do that work ourselves. 007, you’ll get your full briefing and materials from the Quartermaster, but I’m sending you to Australia to infiltrate that company.”

 

“Which is called?”

 

“PresCo. It’s in Sydney.” Q tapped his screen and sent the data to James even as he read it off. “Headed by Martin Prescott, M.D. On paper, they focus on mental health solutions.”

 

“Because that isn’t ominous in its implications,” James muttered, obviously paging through the material he’d just been sent.

 

“Yes, anti-psychotics, primarily, but they’re also a research facility,” Q acknowledged.

 

Severus steepled his fingers together. “Am I, too, going to Australia?”

 

“If 007 needs to break into the company, yes. He may need magical support,” M said.

Q nodded. “I have my magical Q-branch minion cross-referencing known magicals against the Zanetech employee database to see if we can identify our Singapore interference, as well. The head person at Zanetech, a Robert Zane, has not been identified as a magical.”

 

“So likely an employee adding a bit of extra security, then?” Kingsley asked.

 

“Likely, but for what purpose? If magicals are aware of these systems, imagine what could be done with them,” Severus observed. “As a Potions Master, I can think of a list of potions that could be delivered via air and wreak havoc on the populace. If there’s magical and mundane cooperation in this little plot, we have a serious problem.”

 

“And that’s why you’re sitting here, Severus,” M acknowledged. “You truly are the best person to help us figure this one out.”

 

“I live to serve,” Severus said.

 

Q smirked.

 

Kingsley shook his head. “All I can say, is keep me posted, and let me know if I can provide any additional assistance.” He hesitated. “Severus, I’ll put through an Unforgivable license if you think you might need it.”

 

Severus cocked his head. “Am I re-assuming double-oh status?”

 

“Temporarily,” M said. “We have a new 002, so I think we’ll just assign you a new number.”

 

Q grinned. “Normally, we have nine double-ohs at any given time. You’ll be 0010. Double-oh 10. That way, we don’t have to re-distribute or change any other numbers when we need to activate or deactivate you. That slot will remain open for a magical double-oh, as needed.”

 

“An elegant solution,” Severus commented, “and a prudent one.”

 

“Agreed,” M said.

 

Kingsley nodded, too. “Then that agent, 0010, will have the Unforgivable license. The job itself. In that way, I don’t have to use names on the paperwork, and the magical license to kill stays with the job title, not the person. Not 0010? No license to kill.”

 

“Excellent,” Q said. “That will work very well.”

 

Kingsley rose. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll go set that up.”

 

“I’ll contact 006 about his training schedule. I believe he’s in London this week,” Severus said.

Q nodded. “Came back from a mission just yesterday.”

 

M rose as well. “I’ll leave you to stock 007 and get him to Australia, then, Q.”

 

“I’m on it, sir.”

 

“Take 007 with you,” M waved at the tablet from which James still viewed the room.

 

Q grinned. “Yes, sir.”


	3. The Nutgraph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which James and Q have an important talk, and magical anxieties are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this were a news story, this chapter would be the nut graph. Enjoy.

**Ch. 3--The Nutgraph**

****  
  


“So, I’m heading to Sydney, then?” James inquired, viewing his partner from the tablet screen as Q rushed through the halls back to his domain.

 

“Looks that way. I’ll get you flight details and set up a hotel suite. I’ll probably have to set up a portkey for Severus, as he’ll be the silent partner here.” Q held the tablet as a book in his left hand as he tapped out his security code with his right, gaining access to the outer Q-branch offices. “I’ll also send you the file on the company and its owners. Not sure how you’ll infiltrate this one… maybe as a potential sales rep?”

 

“Send me the data and I’ll see what I can work up,” James said quietly. “There’s usually someone who can act as a pressure point of some kind.”

 

Q paused in his rush to his office and looked down at the screen in front him. “Oh.” He shook it off and continued his mad rush.

 

James didn’t like that sound at all. “Oh, what?”

 

Three taps of his security code in his inner office door and Q was blessedly alone, with James on a tablet and his door securely shut. “Just, we haven’t really had that discussion yet.”

 

“Which one?”

 

Q took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Since we’ve been bonded, you’ve not been sent on any missions that required any sort of pressure on particular people to acquire missions.”

 

“Ah.” James suddenly knew where this was going, and he felt a bit of foreboding. “You’re worried about the honeypot missions.”

 

Q shrugged. “Mildly. I know that you’re bonded to me, and that anything you do in the line of duty should be theoretically forgiven--”

 

“Why?” James asked bluntly. “There’s no information on earth as important as my relationship with you.” He watched Q open his mouth, close it, then collapse into his desk chair, the screen wavering wildly as Q moved it around and set it up on an easel on his desk. “You’ve a right to my fidelity, Q, and you have it.”

 

“It’s just, well, you’re very good at honeypot missions,” Q mumbled. “You’ve acquired a bit of a reputation for them. There’s a Bond girl in every report I’ve read, it seems.”

 

“And in all those times, I was never seeing anyone seriously at home,” James pointed out. “I was only serious about one other person before I met you, and she turned out to be a traitor. But before I knew that, I’d tried to cut ties to MI6 just to be with her.”

 

“I couldn’t ask you to cut ties with MI6 for me, James, because this is what you do. This is what you love, and it’s what I love, too, and part of the joy of it now is knowing I can share this part of my life with my partner,” Q said quietly. “I’m also well aware that a little ‘honey’ can smooth the way faster than blunt force, at times. There’s a reason you’ve been so successful in the field. And those skills may be useful here, in the interests of national security and avoiding an international incident.”

 

James studied Q’s face through the screen, and sighed. “Q, I honestly have no interest in spreading my ‘honey’ around. Unless it’s all over you, and yes, that’s meant as an innuendo. I may need to flirt. I may need to tease. But my kisses and my body are yours, darling Q, and I can collect information without whoring myself out.”

 

Q snapped up as if slapped. “You’re not a whore.”

 

“I’ve certainly acted the part as needed,” James replied flatly. “But I have no intentions of doing so now. If the mission requires me to romance a subject, I’m sure my partner can help me find a way to keep my faithfulness to him and meet mission parameters. Especially as it’s his job to give me what I need in the field to complete the mission.”

 

Q opened his mouth, closed it, and sighed deeply. “I’ll see what I can come up with, then.” He hesitated a second, then added, “To be clear, I don’t want anyone else but me to have your kisses, your body, your ‘honey,’ or anything else. But I also know there’s a fine line to walk sometimes in the field.”

 

James raised his hand to the screen in front of him, tracing out the contours of Q’s face. “Darling, I love you. I’m bonded to you. I will keep myself only for you.”

 

Q looked him in the eye. “I love you, too. And I’ll keep myself only for you. But listen well, James: if I can’t come up with a solution to this type of problem that you can implement easily and just when you need it, and spreading ‘honey’ around keeps you alive to come home to me, then you do it. You do whatever it takes to stay alive, darling, and we’ll work out the details later.”

 

James gave him a crooked grin. “A last resort, then. But one I won’t use unless it’s absolutely necessary to stay alive in the field.”

 

“Wish I could seal it with a kiss,” Q mumbled, and scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair, catching his glasses along the way and dragging them off. “God, I’m tired.”

 

“You’ve been up for some time, with the time difference,” James observed. “Will you have time for a nap later?”

 

“I’ve got to get you kitted out and headed for Australia. While I have you on the line …” Q turned to his main keyboard, angling James’ face toward his screen. “I’m booking you on the red-eye from Singapore to Sydney. You’ll get there at just past 6 a.m. tomorrow, local time--or is that yesterday? Never mind, it’ll be on your ticket. Either way, you’ll be staying at the Four Seasons. We keep a prepaid suite there, it’s open at the moment, and I have the portkey coordinates for it as well. The details should be in your secure email when we log off the call here.”

 

James reached toward the screen again, frustrated at the lack of physical contact. “Will I see you there?”

 

Q managed a smile for him. “If I can duck out once you’ve checked in, I’ll see you there. Not sure even I can apparate to Australia, so I’ll just portkey. It’ll be safer, and I can test the coordinates.”

 

“I’ll be ahead of you by eleven hours, darling, and you definitely need that nap. I’ll ring you when I get into the hotel, and you’ll come to me when you’re finished with work. I mean it,” James said firmly.

 

“Unless there’s another international incident, or something, yes, I’ll join you there tonight. In the morning? Whatever. You know what I mean,” Q said, hitting the enter key on his keyboard and sending James’ itinerary flying off to him. A few more key strokes, and the data on the pharmaceutical company, including its employee database, was sent off, as well. “There. Some light reading for the plane.”

 

“I’ll see if I can put a plan of attack together,” James said. “I love you, Harry.”

 

Q gave him a true smile at the sound of his birth name. “I love you, too, James.”

IMBM

 

Severus found Alec Trevelyan just where he expected to--filling up on an early lunch at his favorite Russian restaurant.

 

“Good morning, Alec,” Severus greeted him.

 

“Severus! What brings you here this fine, beautiful morning?” Alec asked flirtatiously.

 

Severus rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you can take a wild guess.”

 

“Oh, dear,” Alec said. “What’s Q done now?”

 

“It’s not what he’s done, Alec, but what he’s going to need us to do,” Severus said, leaning back and collecting a menu from an adjoining table to peruse.

 

“Ah,” Alec said. “Something a bit special, is it?”

 

“Indeed.”

 

IMBM

 

“Remind me again, Ronald, why you’re dropping another tasteless rumour about Harry’s partner?” Hermione Granger-Weasley hissed at her spouse over coffee in the cafe that occupied the space next to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. She’d cast a subtle Muffliato and a privacy charm over the table.

 

Ron grinned at his wife. “Keep the press off their backs until they can come round and address the public themselves. You know Harry doesn’t want the attention, but they got outed by the magical bonding paperwork. I know it’s convenient, and all, that the Ministry has those automatic spells to record the bondings and contracts, but there’s a distinct lack of privacy.”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Only too true, Ronald, but is this really the way?”

 

“It’s a way, I suppose you’d say, and what we’ve chosen for now,” Ron nodded. “Harry doesn’t have time to come into the Alley himself, James has been in the field longer than he’s been home since the bonding, and they’ve yet to publicly register. If the press doesn’t get something to run, they’ll go digging, and neither of them wants that just yet. It’s not safe in their positions.”

 

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “And what do you know about that, Ron?”

 

“Former Auror, remember? I’ve some secrets I need keeping,” Ron maintained. “I know that Harry got an owl from the Muggle Affairs people reminding him to register James as the Muggle partner of a magical, but they have to be presented in person, and James isn’t even in the country right now.”  
  


“That law is ghastly,” Hermione said, taking a sip of her coffee. “It’s almost like the Muggleborn Registration Commission.”

 

“It’s last gasp, anyway,” Ron agreed. “Though it is a way to ensure we know who knows, and who’s allowed to know.”

 

Hermione frowned. “There’s got to be a better way.”

 

“If there is, you’ll find it,” Ron said confidently.

 

IMBM

 

Kingsley Shacklebolt reviewed the personnel files of the incoming batch of fresh Aurors, looking for muggleborns or any with one muggle parent. He found two, and flipped to their scores and aptitudes, looking to see if either had the potential to join MI6.

 

Kingsley’s forward thinking in having Harry meet with M’s predecessor proved to be an incredibly good move, for Harry and for the wizarding world. He wanted to extend the same opportunity to other bright candidates.

 

Because change was coming.

 

Despite their best efforts internationally, the magical world was beginning to lose its fragile hold on secrecy. Too many magicals looked for ways to exploit the rest of the world’s population, and there were not enough law enforcement officers available from both worlds to handle it.

 

He didn’t know how long they could keep their fingers in the dam, but they had to try.

 

IMBM

 

Q spent his day in analysis.

 

He’d found more than just the H/C systems in the blueprints on the server James had cloned. The company itself was building components in separate factories that when put together in one place clearly could have weapons applications, that fact was frightening.

 

The clear priority was the weaponized air delivery systems already in place, but Q could see that MI6 would be busy with multiple intelligence-gathering missions in the near future to track down all the potentials. With magical involvement, they’d be stretched incredibly thin trying track down all the potential problems. Severus and Alec would help, but …

 

Q was beginning to think he’d have to go into the field, too.

 

It wasn’t that he was afraid to go into the field, exactly. Q had complete confidence in his skills, and knew he’d be an asset as an agent. No, it was more that he was a better asset behind the scenes. Q was well aware he was probably the only magical person in the world with doctorates in engineering and physics, and he put those degrees and his combined skill set to work daily. He’d earned his position as head of Q-branch, and he had no intention of losing it.

 

He’d have a fight on his hands if James found out he was even thinking of heading into the field as an agent.

 

James.

 

Their conversation earlier had settled him on one level, but it also opened up another level of anxiety for Q.

 

James, for all that he seemed to keep returning from the dead, was, in fact, mortal.

 

And Q was the Master of Death.

 

Not that anyone actually knew that, of course. Severus knew he carried the Elder Wand. Ron and Hermione knew he carried the cloak. All of them thought the Resurrection Stone lost in the Forbidden Forest.

 

And it had been. Until the day it simply appeared in his pocket, one night about a week after the Battle of Hogwarts.

 

Q had no idea what the true implications of his magical role might be, but it terrified him to think about what he might do if James died in the line of duty. What was in him. The power that could be unleashed.

 

The power that Voldemort knew not.

 

Dumbledore thought it was love, and probably was.

 

But the old fear of what he could do with the power that he wielded was one of the reasons Q had jumped on old M’s offer to join MI6. Away from temptation, he thought; away from magic.

Because he knew full well the hell he could unleash if he chose to.


	4. Magical Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus tests Alec's abilities, and mission parameters are developed.

Alec pushed the sequence of buttons that was his personal passcode to the well-warded MI6 magical training room, alerting Q that he and Severus were using the space. Severus added his own code as he stepped through, averting the lockdown and alert that would have triggered with the sensing of a second magical signature going through the door.

 

The space looked much the same as it had the last time he’d been there, though the training dummies were new.

 

“Q left us a toy or two?” Severus asked, shrugging off the long black duster that he’d transfigured from his usual black outer robe, so as to be presentable among the non-magicals.

 

Alec nodded. “He got tired of coming down to re-transfigure bits and pieces into targets. These will regenerate.”

 

Severus gave a half-smile. “Clever.”

 

“That’s my quartermaster; clever as they come, that one,” Alec said off-handedly as he removed his own jacket and dropped his wand from his forearm holster into his hand.

 

“Hmmm,” Severus said, noncommittally, dropping his own wand into his hand and stepping into the padded arena in the center of the space.

 

“Come on, you don’t think he’s clever?” Alec asked, legitimately curious.

 

Severus rolled his eyes. “I’ve known your Q almost his entire life, and served as his instructor for a good portion of his teens. I never saw evidence of the cleverness that’s more than obvious now, though I admit I never looked for it, either. I do know, however, that he is a master of magical defense, uncommonly blessed with magic, and a man to have on your side in a fight.”

 

Alec snorted. “Yes, I forgot that the pair of you weren’t always on good terms.”

 

“I made him hate me. Deliberately,” Severus acknowledged. “And it worked at times, but your Q has a generous heart to go with that clever brain. We’ve made amends.”

 

“Excellent!” Alec stepped into the arena himself, across from Severus. Thirty feet separated the pair, who now took loose parallel stances, wands at the ready, pointed downward. “Shall we?”

 

“Let’s see how far you’ve come in the past few months,” Severus said, then struck.

 

Spells flew fast and furious. Alec shielded well, returning fire with a combination of the tried-and-true (a well-placed reducto, a bone-breaker) and the absurd (Severus changed hair color twice before he knew to shield the muttered charm), while Severus attacked with the full fury of a well-trained former Death Eater.

 

They were both panting by the time Severus called a halt.

 

“Well done, Alec,” Severus said, leaning over his knees to catch his breath, one arm outstretched in a classic “stop” position. “Catch our breaths and we’ll see what’s next.”

 

Alec blew out a long breath and dropped into lotus position on the mat, taking slow, deliberate breaths. “Why am I so out of breath? I’m in good shape; I have to be. And we’re just running around a bit and throwing spells at each other.”

 

Severus straightened up, directing his wand to repair the fractured bone of his upper arm with a quick “Episkey!” “Magic wielding requires energy,” he explained. “Want me to heal that cut for you?”

 

“Yeah, thanks,” Alec extended his right leg and raised the pants up to reveal the gash in his calf from a slashing hex, and followed Severus’ motions with his eyes. “Is there an incantation for that one?”

 

Severus shook his head. “Just a nonverbal chant. More of a song, really. Here, I’ll speak it out loud.” He sang the chant, directing the magic from the point of his wand over the gash as it healed.

 

“Brilliant!” Alec exclaimed. “That’s so much easier that a week in medical.”

 

“Only really works on other magicals, though, Alec, so have a care with it,” Severus cautioned him. “It works with the patient’s magical core as much as the healer’s.”

 

“Got it,” Alec said, and stretched. “So, how’d I do, professor?”

 

Severus snorted. “I happily left ‘professor’ behind some time ago, as you well know. But as you’re asking, I have to say that your defense skills are quite something. The Weasleys have been training you well.”

 

Alec shrugged. “George is a right riot, and Ron’s got some moves. He was magical law enforcement for a couple of years before he decided to partner with George, you know.”

 

“I’d heard,” Severus acknowledged. “I hadn’t thought about the implications, though.”

 

“Well, he’s pretty good. Won’t say much about his time as an Auror, other than that he realized, after about the 12th injury, that he’d really wanted to build his family with his wife, and his kids probably would like to know their father,” Alec explained. “So, he changed jobs. And they’re happy. Mrs. Granger-Weasley is a treat for the eyes, too. Don’t blame him for wanting that family.”

 

Severus shook his head. “Former students. Always hard for me to see them as adults, frankly.”

 

Alec looked at him knowingly. “That’s one reason you have such a hard time acknowledging Q’s cleverness, isn’t it?”  
  


“Plan to let that go, any time soon?” Severus asked acidly.

 

“Nah.”

 

Severus rolled his eyes. “My relationship with Q is based in part on the fact that I absolutely detested his father and the little gang of miscreants that ran around with him when we were all in school together. As a teen, he looked astonishingly like a mini-version of his father, and I chose not to look past that to see who he actually was. He’s very much like his mother, personally, and he has her eyes.”

 

“Ah, I get it.”

 

Severus raised a brow. “Get what?”

 

“You loved his mother, and wanted her yourself,” Alec revealed with the air of a magician.

 

“Yes, and it’s somewhat of an open secret know, I suppose. Q, himself, knows it, though we’ve yet to acknowledge that between us. I was in a coma for a few years, you know, and we just reconnected with that first case six months ago,” Severus explained.

 

Alec shook his head. “That’s a lot of baggage.”

 

Another voice broke into their conversation. “A lot more than we probably want to address today, gentlemen,” Q said.

 

“When did you get here?” Alec asked, wondering if his situational awareness had been completely sunk in the last hour.

 

“Oh, I popped in right about the time the pair of you started talking about relationships,” Q said, emphasizing the last word. “Really? Alec, if you want to know about me, talk to me, please.”

 

“But Severus must have some good stories, Q, and I simply must get to them. I must!” Alec placed a hand on his chest and gave his best innocent baby blues to his quartermaster.

 

Q shook his head sadly and mockingly. “I’m afraid any story Severus could tell would be heavily biased by the fact that he was the central authority figure of my young life. I suspect he spent more time trying to keep me in line than any other adult in my entire life, with the exception of my uncle, who liked to lock me in cupboards and starve me.”

 

Severus’ eyebrows flew up. “Pardon?”

 

Q looked up. “You didn’t know that?”

 

“That’s true?” Severus asked, paling. “I’d heard the rumor about your letter, but I dismissed it. Dumbledore…” Severus trailed off, then his dark eyes blazed to life. “No, Dumbledore bloody well would have left you with those people if he thought you were safer there than away. Which speaks to how very much he feared for your life, damn it.”

 

Q raised an eyebrow. “You knew Tuney. She married a very ordinary, brutish Muggle who wanted nothing but a very ordinary life. I disrupted that. They kept me in the cupboard under the stairs until my Hogwarts letter arrived addressed to me in there. Scared them enough to put me in Dudley’s second bedroom, instead. They tried to outrun the Hogwarts letters, too, and I had no clue what was going on until Hagrid broke into this cliff house in the sea that they’d dragged me and Dud to, gave me my letter, told me I was a wizard, and disappeared with me. Took their boat too.” Q paused, thinking. “I never did find out how they got off that rock.”

 

“I imagine someone showed up to help them,” Severus murmured, and sat down himself, flat on the mats. “I feel I owe you some sort of an apology or explanation, Q.”

 

Q shook his head. “You don’t. It wasn’t an easy way to grow up, but nothing about my life was easy from the time I was born, I suspect.”

 

“Well,” Alec broke in. “I’ve certainly learned more than I expected to, and I’ve heard stories from Ron.”

 

Q started laughing. “Only about half of them are true, I swear.”

Severus cleared his throat. “Some things, I don’t need to know. To me, Q is still a mischievous, but innocent youth.” He paused. “I suspect he always will be, in my eyes.”

 

“Sir, Severus,” Q reached out to him, and lay a hand on his shoulder. “Of all the adults in my life as I grew up, only you consistently held me to a specific standard, and consistently protected me from all threats you could discern. I know part of that was because of your vow in my mother’s name, but I don’t think you understand how much I came to rely on that consistency.”

 

“Children need it,” Severus said roughly, quietly.

 

“They do. I did.” Q took a deep breath. “So thanks.”

 

“Well, I feel we’ve come to an important place, a special place, a potentially happy place, as we shared our feelings…” Alec started, then recoiled quickly at the glare from two sets of eyes hit him. “Ah, OK, perhaps not. Shall I go?”

 

“Not necessary, 006,” Q said crisply, and with a quiet wink. “I’ve come to brief the pair of you and kit you out.”

 

“We’re going somewhere?” Alec asked.

 

“You’re going to the States, Alec, assuming 0010 here thinks you’re ready to be solo without magical back-up,” Q asked in his turn.

 

Severus nodded. “He is.”

 

“So, 006, pick up your kit from R, because you’re heading to Texas. Get your best cowboy on--and no, that’s not a dirty joke--because that’s your cover. There’s a plant there that needs investigating, and the CIA is requesting our special assistance, as they haven’t anyone trained up and you’re ready to roll,” Q explained. “Mission parameters are in the tablet, and an emergency portkey to a suite in the Four Seasons New York is included. You’re flying out tonight.”

 

“Got it,” Alec said, holstering his wand and getting to his feet.

 

“Double-oh ten, I have a similar kit for you. We were going to have you back up 007 in Australia, but further analysis revealed a third plant that requires investigation. You’re authorized to use any and all of your special skills to infiltrate and recover data--you’ll find a cloning memory stick in your kit to use on their server. Are you familiar enough with that technology to find the server and complete your mission?”

 

“I am,” Severus agreed. “Believe it or not, one cannot run a business among non-magicals without a computer, these days. I know enough to recognize a server, find a USB port, and plug in memory stick.”

 

“If you can get that far, the stick will do the hack-and-clone, and once it’s run, you’ll leave. Your kit includes an emergency portkey to the suite in Egypt you’re familiar with,” Q explained. “Your target is actually in Mumbai.”

 

“Will there be time built in to visit the magical botanical gardens? I could use some new ingredients from that region,” Severus asked dryly, with a quick wink at Alec.

 

“On your own time, 0010,” Q said exasperatedly.

 

“What about 007?” Alec asked. “Won’t he be needing magical back-up?”

 

“There’s too many targets and not enough trained magicals,” Q said quietly. “I’ll be backing him up.”

 

Alec whistled. “He won’t like that.”

 

“That’s because he’s my bondmate,” Q acknowledged. “He’d rather I not go mission at all.”

 

Severus looked at him curiously. “Is he aware of how powerful you are?”

 

“He is. Doesn’t matter,” Q said. “He’ll never favor anything that might put me in significant danger. Kind of nice, really. I expect we’ll row about it when I meet him Sydney, as the subject’s already come up.”

 

“I do not envy you there, my friend,” Alec shook his head. “He can be exceptionally stubborn about the safety of the people he loves.”

 

“In that, they are peas in a pod,” Severus said, looking at Q searchingly. “Q, have you been in the field at all?”

 

Q tilted his head. “Magical warfare doesn’t count?”

 

“For this purpose, no.”

 

Q nodded. “Classified, Severus, but yes. The former Q didn’t want me in the field, either, but it was occasionally necessary.”

 

“Afghanistan,” Alec said softly.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Afghanistan is a war zone, Q,” Severus said sternly.

 

“Sure is, thanks for pointing it out.” Q rubbed his face over his hands. “Point is, I’ve been on mission, I know what I’m doing, and at this point, there’s no one left here to lend magical assistance. We need you two out where you’re going. Alec, Felix Leiter will back you up in Texas, but he’s not in the know, so he won’t be going with you. Severus, you’re on your own in Mumbai, but I assume you have your own contacts there.”

 

“I do.”

 

“Well, then, let’s be off, 0010,” Alec said, extending a hand down to Severus, who took it, and pulled himself up. “We’ve missions to complete.”

 

“Good luck, gentlemen,” Q said.

 

“You, too, mate--and I don’t mean with the mission,” Alec called back.

 

 


	5. Getting Started

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our magicals all set out on their missions, and Molly Weasley has a plan.

**Ch. 5: Getting Started**

Q blew out a breath. He’d turned over control of Q-branch to R, assured that each of the current missions would be operating smoothly, and put together his own kit. He and James would go in as partners in a growing sales firm looking for new pharmaceuticals clients. He’d sent the materials and specs to James while the man was en route to Sydney, along with a note that he’d meet him there at 0800, local time, in the lobby of the Four Seasons.

 

They’d have breakfast there, in public (Q was really hoping he could avoid a row if he managed the briefing publicly), then check in and prep for a 1 p.m. appointment with the company president.

 

Their cover was good; Q had spent the time that James was in transit wisely, setting up a solid cyber-trail for their fledgling company and wangling the appointment out of Dr. Prescott’s administrative assistant. Q also had set up his own cover, and stopped at his own home for mission clothes.

 

While Q tended toward casual in house, missions, especially those requiring him to be a bit of a corporate sales figure, required a bit more. James, of course, was always impeccably turned out on mission, and his personal collection of Tom Ford and Armani suits served him well. Q didn’t have quite the same collection, but he did have a few lovely, tailored suits that would do.

And if he needed more, he’d transfigure something.

 

He also needed a bit of grooming, so he’d stopped off at the in-house barber for a cut that left him with an almost-military short head of hair, with soft spikes on top that highlighted the few silver thread that had worked their way in over the years. Q wrestled his contacts into his eyes with a murmured charm to keep them there without fuss for as long as needed, allowing his own green eyes to shine. He didn’t bother with them in branch, preferring his usual glasses, but wearing contacts instead of his glasses changed the look of his entire face, making him less recognizable to the magical community.

 

He dressed himself in a dark grey three-piece Armani suit, with a white shirt and a deep purple tie, added black Ferragamos, and checked himself out in the full-length mirror on the back of their bathroom door.

 

He’d do.

 

Q tested his wand holster for ease of use, picked up his garment bag and slung his black leather duffle over his shoulder before tapping his platinum tie-pin and disappearing with a soft, “Outback.”

 

He reappeared in a safe alcove on the magical side of the Four Seasons, adjusted himself, and stepped out into the Australian sun on the walk in front of the hotel, blending into the crowd hurrying by in their rush to business for the day. Q only needed a few paces before entering the lobby proper, and handing his bags off to the bell desk.

 

“I’ll be in the Jonas Suite, I expect,” Q explained softly. “But let me have a ticket anyway until I confirm.”

 

“Yes, sir,” a bellman filled out a ticket for his bags and placed them in a locked bin in the cage room hidden discreetly behind the desk. “We’ll bring them up when you’ve checked in.”

 

“Wonderful, thank you,” Q said, again softly. His role would be to blend in behind James’ loud sales presence, so he decided he’d start by acting the part.

 

Behind him, a familiar voice added, “I believe we’ll be in the same place, so you can place my bags with his.”

 

Q turned to see the tense blue eyes of his bonded, who smiled broadly and handed his bags over. “James! Well met.”

 

“Evan,” James leaned in and shook his hand, giving him a manly half hug. “Good to see you. Breakfast?”

 

“Yes, let’s.”

 

The pair moved confidently together toward the hotel restaurant, where James held up two fingers and the hostess seated them in a quiet booth.

 

“I didn’t realize you were going to come yourself for this meeting,” James said, adding a “thank you” to the server, who brought him coffee. “I thought you were needed back at the office.”

 

Q smiled coyly. “Well, you know how it goes. Sometimes things seem to happen all at once, and in this case, our sales folks had to be sent off elsewhere to nail down a couple of contracts. I was the only one left.”

 

James narrowed his eyes. “How many contracts?”

 

“At least three others. I’ve sent our best salesmen out to manage, and that just left me to come out and assist you with this one,” Q added brightly. “I hope you’re not too disappointed that I came to see you.”

 

James cocked his head to the side, reading what Q wasn’t saying, then slid his hand across the top of the table to to take Q’s up from where it rested next to his own coffee. “Darling, I’m never disappointed to see you, only disappointed that you had to get involved here. I know how much you prefer the office, and frankly, I do think that’s where you shine.”

 

“Well, that might be true, but it’s hardly the first time I’ve had to go out and help,” Q murmured softly, running his thumb along James’ hand.

 

“Really?” James asked with a small frown. “I don’t recall your ever coming out before.”

 

“Ah, well, that would be because most of my saleswork happened while you were out of the country for an extended period,” Q acknowledged. “Before we met, actually. It wasn’t a regular thing, but sometimes only I will do, apparently.”

 

“Sometimes only you will do, I suppose,” James said, offering Q a true smile. “I’d love to chat about your sales experience sometime.”

 

“I’m sorry it’s never come up before,” Q said, looking up at James through sooty black lashes, letting his eyes almost glow green.

 

James’ own eyes grew heated at that look, and he leaned in to whisper softly in Q’s ear. “I almost swallowed my own tongue when you turned around, darling. You look edible in Armani.”

 

Q drew back with a smirk. “Does that mean we won’t row about this?”

 

“No, darling, we won’t row, but we will discuss it when you’re not too busy distracting me with your charms,” James said huskily.

 

Q swallowed. “I’ll need breakfast first.”

 

“Then let’s eat.”

 

IMBM

 

Severus stepped out of the secure portkey point in magical Mumbai with a nonchalant air. It was hardly his first trip to the Indian subcontinent, and quite likely not to be his last; some of his best potions ingredients, including the venom of the Black Mamba, could only be obtained in the marketplaces here.

 

Thus, his cover remained simple; Severus Snape went to Mumbai as himself.

 

Though he didn’t discount the hotel suite set up for him by MI6, Severus had his own resources in Mumbai, and as he walked through the market, he made sure to be seen by those who would share the knowledge that Snape was in town.

 

He’d have some answers about magical involvement by nightfall. And then he’d go to the source to get the data Q needed for analysis.

 

IMBM

 

Alec got out of baggage claim and greeted Felix with a clasp of the hand and a wide grin. “Howdy, Felix!” Alec cried out, using a perfect Southern Alabama accent. “How y’all doing in this here heat?”

 

Felix knew Alec was British, knew he was MI6, had even heard Alec’s true accent before, but was surprised every time by Alec’s ability to mimic almost any speech pattern he heard. He shook his head. “On cover already?”

 

“Better than not and be caught out,” Alec pointed out with that same broad grin. “Where we headed?”

 

“We’ve got a suite in downtown Austin that I’ll get you set up at,” Felix said. “And I’ve got preliminary intel for you.”

 

“Let’s go, then.”

 

IMBM

 

“Mum, I told you, Harry and James don’t want a party,” Ron said for what seemed to be the millionth time. “The bonding was unexpected, and they’re happy about it, but it’s not safe for them to get too much attention over it.”  
  


“Nonsense,” Molly Weasley scoffed. “We can just have a small family party, right here at the Burrow.”

 

“I don’t even think they’re in the country right now, Mum, and at any rate, you need to talk to them before you go planning anything,” Ron tried again.

 

“Not in the country? Where did they go?” Molly asked, busying herself with pouring another cuppa.

 

“Ah, well, who knows, exactly? Their jobs take them places,” Ron hedged. He, in fact, did not know precisely where they were, but he did know that something major was going down. Alec had begged off lessons that week, because despite having just gotten back from a mission, he was going right back out again. And somehow, Severus was gone, too.

 

“Those boys work too hard,” Molly muttered to herself. “And we need to celebrate their bonding. The Ministry is starting to breathe fire over not having details. I know Kingsley is keeping a lid on it, but the rumors alone! They’ll have to address it soon. A small celebration would soothe things a little bit.”

 

Ron looked at his mother with new eyes. “So this isn’t just about throwing a family party?”

 

“Oh, Ronnie, dear, you know that I love to throw parties,” Molly patted him on the cheek. “But no, in this case, I truly think we need to do something soon, or who knows what people will come up with?”

 

“Hmmm,” he said noncommittally. “I’ll see if I can talk to Harry.”

 

Which is all Molly wanted in the first place, so she smiled and offered him a plate of biscuits.

 

IMBM

 

Q and James lingered over their breakfast, enjoying each other’s company as they spoke quietly about inconsequential things and maintained their cover of being business partners--and more. While James had added the handholding, Q had no objections, as it meant it would be easier for him to stake his own claim if he needed to.

 

Q might have okay’ed the use of honeypot missions as a last resort, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

 

Both men were startled when Q’s smartphone rang. Q pulled it out of his inside pocket to check the caller, saw it was Ron, raised an eyebrow at James, and answered it.

 

“What’s up, Ron?”

 

“Mate, I have to tell you, you’re going to need to do some damage control here, and soon.”

 

“I’m fine, thank you. Are you well? And Hermione?”

 

“Oh, we’re just peachy, except the Ministry and the Prophet are breathing down everyone’s necks about you and your bonding. I keep trying to feed the rumour mill and buy you time, but the natives are restless, mate.”

 

Q rolled his eyes. “I sent the Muggle Affairs office an owl to let them know we were out of the country, and would come in at our earliest convenience.”

 

“Yeah, well, the public seems to think you’re leaving us for good, and they’re starting to panic. You should see the headlines.”

 

“I wish I cared, Ron, but I truly don’t.”

 

James leaned forward. “Put him on speaker.”

 

Q complied. “Ron, James and everybody else can hear you now. Try to be subtle.”

 

“Mum wants to throw a bonding party for you, not just because you’re family, but because she thinks it’ll help quell the rumours and appease the public.”

 

James slid around to Q’s side of the booth and put an arm around his bonded. “Ron,” James said, “tell your mother we’d be delighted, and we leave everything in her hands.”

 

“James, you know this trip doesn’t have a definite end date,” Q hissed. “What are you thinking?”

 

“I’m thinking I’d like my husband’s family to have a chance to celebrate with us, and that there’s no harm in it. Ron, you’d have to let Molly know that she’ll need a back-up date and plan, though, right?”

 

“I can do that,” Ron acknowledged. “Meanwhile, we can let word get out that we’re planning it, so that the public can be reassured that you’re not going anywhere.”

“You’re starting to sound like my PR manager,” Q mumbled.

 

“Ah, well, no, just your friend,” Ron said. “Hermione’s better at the actual press stuff, as you know. But I’ve learned a thing or two. And besides, the party and the reasoning behind it was all my mum.”

 

James ran a hand along Q’s tense right arm. “Ron, tell her we’re grateful. Can we help pay for anything? Shall I provide a budget?”

 

“I’ll ask, but she’ll have her ideas,” Ron said.

 

Q leaned back into James and pulled out his tablet, rapidly tapping a few spots on it. “Ron, I’ve just transferred 500G into the Weasley family fault. Let’s shoot for two weeks out, on a Sunday.”

 

“How did you do that so quickly?”

 

“The bank likes me,” Q said, smirking.

 

James continued stroking Q’s tense arm. “Let us know if she needs more, Ron, and don’t let her get away with not telling us.”

 

“Will do,” Ron said. “Thanks, mate.”

 

“No, thank you and Molly. I’m sorry you’ve all been stressed about this,” Q said.

 

“It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before,” Ron pointed out. “We’ve got your back.”

 

“It’s appreciated, Ron,” James said.

 

“Laters, then.”

 

Q disconnected and drummed the fingers of his right hand against the table. “I really, really, really, hate the magical press. To infinity.”

 

“And beyond?” James asked jokingly.

 

“And beyond.” Q sighed. “Shall we go check in?”

 

“Let’s. And then maybe you’ll let me peel you out of that suit.”

 

Q laughed. “As long as you don’t wrinkle it.”

  
“I, wrinkle Armani? Never.”


	6. Gathering Data

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Information gathering takes a huge leap forward.

**Ch. 6: Gathering Data**

****  
  


Severus sipped from his blood red ceramic cup of plain black tea, making sure to be in plain sight of the front windows of the small tea shop in magical Mumbai. Though he appeared bored, all senses remained on alert. The red cup was an old code, but it meant that he was seeking information, and willing to pay for it.

 

While the magical world didn’t have the small electronic gadgets that Q so loved to create and send off with his agents, it did have another precious commodity in its close-knit communities, some of which had purposefully cultivated their skills in eavesdropping and disillusionment. In Mumbai, Severus hoped a member of the Serpentine clan would see the red cup, and stop by to see what he was looking for. With luck, the clan already had the information he sought; without it, he’d have to wait a few days for their own network to seek it out.

 

He signaled to the server, who brought him another pot of tea and a plate of ginger biscuits before heading back to his place behind the small counter. Severus picked up a biscuit to see two words: Butterfly House.

 

Ah. Too many people around here today, then, he thought. Severus finished his tea, left a few coins on the table, and stepped out, heading down the street to browse a few stalls, meandering his way to the brothel on the corner known as the Butterfly House. He stepped through the front door and greeted the matron calmly.

 

“Ah, Master Snape,” she smiled coyly. “I have your room ready for you.”

 

“Lovely,” Severus replied. “Terms?”

 

“Have been already negotiated and paid,” she replied. “I thank you for asking. Please follow me.”

 

Severus strolled behind her, observing everything about the tastefully decorated space, including the lovely young men and women in various states of dress that they passed. He followed along a corridor, up two flights of stairs, and down a shorter corridor to a plain door. The matron knocked three times, then opened the door, allowing Severus to enter the space, wand loose in its holster, to see a face he’d not expected to see again.

 

“Miss Patil,” he exclaimed softly. “What brings you here?”

 

“Professor,” Parvati acknowledged. “You were looking for information. It was decided I should be the one to talk with you at this time.”

 

Severus sat slowly. “I was unaware you were a member of the Serpentine.”

 

“None know who we are unless we wish it,” she said softly. “My family has been associated with the Serpentine for generations.”

 

Severus gave a quick nod, thrown a bit. “I see.”

 

“What information do you seek, professor?” Parvati asked.

 

He cleared his throat. “I’m looking for any information that might be found about potential magical involvement in muggle manufacturing companies.”

 

Parvati raised an eyebrow. “Do you know which companies?”

 

“I know of three, connected by one, Zanetech.”

 

“Ah,” Parvati said, and sat back, thinking. “Forgive me, but I was not expected that question of you.”

 

Severus raised an eyebrow of his own. “What were you expecting, then?”

 

“Your allegiances have been suspicious for some time,” Parvati said quietly. “I thought perhaps you’d want to know where to find Harry Potter.”

 

“Do many come to the Serpentine looking for that information?” Severus asked, giving away nothing.

 

Parvati smiled wryly. “Yes, believe it or not. And our ears are to the ground, but we know very little about Harry these days. It’s as if he’s dropped off the planet, or into the muggle world completely.”

 

Severus thought for a second. “I can confirm that Harry is alive and well, and I may be able to provide better information, in exchange for the information I’m looking for.”

 

“And how can you do that?” Parvati asked.

 

“I work with him,” he said bluntly. “And we’re looking into magical involvement in muggle manufacturing.”

 

“I see,” Parvati said. “Forgive me, but I have a difficult time believing you and Harry are working together. The animosity between the two of you is legendary.”

 

“And settled,” Severus said, “though I don’t expect you to believe me without proof. Which I don’t have just now, unless you know how to use a mobile.”

 

Parvati laughed. “Of course I do. And we do have some information about the very few magicals who work in our local muggle manufacturing facilities. Information about Harry, though. That’s hard to come by.”

 

Severus spoke a quiet “Tempus.” 7:30 a.m. local time. He’d been sipping tea for an hour before he’d gotten the note to come here, and that put Q and Bond at 12:30 p.m. He hoped Q had had a nap. “I’ll just get my phone out of my pocket,” he said quietly, and at Parvati’s nod, he took it out, tapped the screen, and placed the call to Q’s tablet.

 

“Sit rep,” Q said raspily as he answered the call, breathing hard.

 

“Q, you’d better not be playing on the job,” Severus said admonishingly.

 

“My mate and I are in the same room, in private, and are waiting for data,” Q said, catching his breath. “Nothing better to do.”

 

“So Harry’s become a lay-a-bout, then?” Parvati asked loudly, hoping to catch him off guard.

 

“Who is that?” Q said briskly and sharply.

 

“I’m passing the phone, then I’ll explain,” Severus said.

 

“Better be good,” Q said.

 

“You asked me to the Yule Ball as a last resort, and I got my sister to go with Ron just because he looked pathetic,” Parvati said into the phone.

 

“Parvati?” Quiet rustling was heard. “What? What is Severus doing with you?”

 

“Seeking information,” Parvati explained. “And I wanted this in exchange.”

 

“A private phone call with your first date?”

 

“Simply the knowledge that you are indeed alive and well. Somewhere. That information carries a price tag, and I can now confirm it,” Parvati said gleefully. “And therefore, I have information about the manufacturing plants you wanted.”

 

“Is that the time?” Q muttered, muffled. “Crap.” He cleared his throat. “My partner and I have an appointment at one involved facility in under half an hour, so we need to wrap this up, Parv. Is this enough payment?”

 

Parvati grinned. “I’d love a photo, but this will do. I suspect you’re not dressed for a photo.”

 

“Give me a sec, but no, I don’t want photos out, anyway. I’m undercover at the mo,” he explained tightly, and she could hear another voice rumbling behind Q as he and his partner dressed.

 

“Got it,” Parvati said. “We’ll keep our ears open for you here in Mumbai, and pass information to Severus.”

 

“Do I want to know who ‘we’ are?” Q asked.

 

Severus took the phone back. “Just a magical intelligence network I tapped here, Q. Not to worry.”

 

“Fair enough, Severus. I trust you. And we’d better be going on mission ourselves.”

 

“Acknowledged,” Severus said, and cut the connection. He looked up at Parvati. “Enough?”

 

“Yes.” Parvati pulled her own phone out of her pocket. “Give me a mo, and I’ll have names for you.”

 

Severus sat back, pleased.

 

IMBM

 

“First date, Q?” James asked, smirking a bit.

 

“I was 14 and she was pretty. Give me a break. Wasn’t who I really wanted, anyway, but she became a loyal friend, in the end. Fought at Hogwarts with me. Wondered what happened to her,” Q said absently, restoring their careful corporate personnas with a few flicks of his wand. “There.”

 

“Let’s be off, then,” James said.

 

“You lead, dear, and I’ll back you up,” Q smirked back at him.

 

IMBM

 

“I don’t recognize any of these names,” Severus said thoughtfully.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Parvati said. “They’re all born of non-magical parents. There’s been a quiet movement building in the last ten years or so among some of these new magicals to use their power to make changes in the non-magical world.”

 

“Do they have a leader?” Severus asked, scrolling through the data and sending it with a quick keystroke to Q’s secured tablet.

 

“We haven’t been able to get a name for the leader, but there are a few possibilities,” Parvati said. “It looks as though it’s a half dozen people, like a council, deciding how to make things change, and others are following along.”

 

“This is deeply unethical,” Severus noted.

 

“Rumor has it that they’re tired of not fitting into the magical world, and see no reason why they shouldn’t use their own magic to make the non-magical world better for themselves.” Parvati shrugged. “It’s reactionary, I suspect, to the whole Voldemort thing.”

 

Severus shook his head. “If ever I imagined your future, I certainly didn’t imagine you as an information broker.”

 

“Please, professor,” Parvati said, rolling her eyes. “I was the gossip of Gryffindor. And you didn’t see this coming?”

 

“Well, it’s just a bit more dangerous than I thought ….” Severus trailed off, then rolled his own eyes. “Answered my own question. Gryffindor.”

 

“To the core, professor. One trained by snakes.”

 

IMBM

 

As Severus made his way back to the hotel set up by MI6, he laid out his plan of attack for the evening.

 

He knew where the pharmaceuticals company was located. He would apparate to the gate, make his way inside, find the offices, clone the server, and disapparate back to his hotel room, none the wiser.

 

And if he ran into a few wards, he’d break them.

 

Meanwhile, he’d so some shopping. Then catch a nap.

 

IMBM

 

“Ready for this, Evan?” James asked casually as they strolled into the outer offices of PresCo.

 

“Yes, dear,” Evan said, smiling brightly. “I so rarely get to go out and play at sales with you!”

 

They’d refined Q’s cover a bit, making him a pretty-but-not-too-bright partner, there because he was primarily James’ boy-toy. “Just remember it’s not play here, Evan,” James admonished him, taking the role of the dominating partner.

 

“Yes, dear,” Q said demurely, even as he batted his eyelashes at his partner. James stifled a laugh as they introduced themselves to receptionist, who welcomed them and buzzed the president’s office. At the go-ahead from Dr. Prescott’s admin, the pair were escorted by security into the bowels of the company, winding their way through a maze of hallways that finally led to a luxurious office suite.

 

Outwardly, Q smiled vacantly at their welcome by the admin, an attractive, middle-aged brunette woman named Claire. Inwardly, he acknowledged that the maze of hallways they’d just traversed through had more flash than substance. Q doubted very much that the facility was physically as large as it appeared to be, and that fact through up all sorts of red flags.

 

James moved forward with handshake and a bit of a flirt for Claire. “It’s lovely to meet you,” he said. “I’m James, and this is my partner, Evan.”

 

“Welcome,” Claire said, smiling. “I hear you’ve got a plan to help us increase our sales?”

 

“We do,” James confirmed. “I look forward to sharing it with Dr. Prescott.”

 

“He’s asked me to find you something to drink before I bring you in. Tea?”

 

“That would be so great,” Q gushed. “I was afraid you all would only have beer here!”

 

Claire laughed. “We’re not all about our beer, I’d have to say.” She stepped over to and through a door to a small kitchenette. “Earl Grey?”

 

“Please,” Q said brightly.

 

“Same for you, James?” Claire called out.

 

“Certainly,” he replied, looking down at his partner, who was looking at the wall next to the kitchenette door as if he could see through it.

 

James didn’t flinch as he realized Q probably was looking through it, especially when Q caught his wrist and tapped out a quick “no” in Morse. James raised his other hand to squeeze Q’s gently, then dropped them both as Claire came out with their cups. “Here you are, gentlemen. Dr. Prescott will only be a few more moments.”

 

James realized that Claire had added something to the tea, and that she and the good doctor wanted them to drink a good portion before they went into the office. Poison?

 

The men took seats next to each other on the loveseat against the wall next to the main office door, and pretended to sip their tea while Q surreptitiously switched the liquid with the tea in his locked travel thermos, located in his briefcase. James watched as the liquid in his cup changed color slightly, then watched his partner relax and take a deep sip. “That is the best Earl Grey I’ve ever had!” he gushed again.

 

James hid a smile. The best Earl Grey? The tin James gave him every week. He took a deep sip himself, mentally counting off the seconds as they waited to be shown in to see the doctor.

 

IMBM

 

Alec worked his way through the dossiers provided by Felix in the privacy of his hotel room, getting ready to don his best burglar attire to head out and get the server data.

 

He had an appointment of his own tomorrow, with the head of the plant, George Jordan, but decided to take advantage of the cover of darkness tonight to break in and clone the server.

 

The blueprints for the main offices were fairly straightforward. He’d make his way there, enter the faciltiies, clone the server, and get back to the hotel, as non-magically as possible. It wouldn’t do, after all, to tip off any magicals to magical opposition.

 

Wouldn’t do at all.

  
  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7: Many Missions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q acts flighty, Alec commits a B & E, and Molly gets the green light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use the fairly well established Pounds to Galleon ratio of 10 to 1 for my money conversions.

 

Behind Q’s vacant smile, he quickly processed what he knew so far about the situation they found themselves in:

 

  1. The company was likely headed by someone magical, as the facility was using expansion charms and the administrative assistant was dosing visitors with potions.

  2. The potion was meant to be something visitors wouldn’t notice in a cup of Earl Grey.

  3. The likeliest possibility for something like that would be Veritaserum or a derivative thereof, likely to ensure they were who they said they were.




 

Before Claire could take them back to see the Dr. Prescott, Q exclaimed cheerfully, “Look at the new app I found, baby!”

 

James rolled his eyes for show, then cast his eyes down to the tablet Q was flourishing under his nose. On it, Q had typed a message-- “Act a bit vacant; tea dosed with truth potion.”

 

“I do find your fascination with new apps to be a bit peculiar, darling,” James said with a chuckle.

 

Q pouted. “But it has a currency converter and everything!” He wiped the screen message.

 

“That will be useful,” James agreed, sipping his tea.

 

A bit too loudly, Q said, “Have I told you how much I love your blue, blue eyes?” Then he squeaked, and put a hand over his mouth, before batting his own eyelashes at his partner.

 

James chuckled again. “As I love your green, green eyes, love,” he said, “even if this is not the place for this discussion.”

 

They’d clearly been overheard, as Claire stepped from around her desk with a smile and said, “Dr. Prescott will see you now.”

 

Q flashed her a big smile, James a slightly smaller one, and the pair got up to follow her through to Prescott’s office.

 

The office itself was twice the size of its anteroom, and featured a wall of windows to the back that overlooked the ocean. James whistled. “Great view!”

 

“I’m glad you appreciate it,” a tall, toned, and tanned white-haired gentleman of indeteriminate age rose from behind a mahogany desk. “I find it soothing.” He held a hand out to James first. “I’m Martin Prescott.”

 

James shook. “James MacMillan.” He let go of Prescott’s hand and gestured to Q. “My partner, Evan Scott.”

 

“Pleasure to meet you,” Q said, batting his eyes again. “You’re yummy.”

 

Prescott laughed, “Thank you.” He waved a hand at the chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat. I’m told you have a proposition for me?”

 

James cleared his throat as he sat down. “We’re looking to expand our sales market with new clients in pharmaceuticals. We have a substantial base of medical professionals to which we can market, and we’re targeting successful companies like this one with an eye toward expanding their sales, and copping a large commission for ourselves. We do the sales work, and you continue to provide the product.” The speech was more blunt than he’d normally do, but with “truth potion” supposedly in his system, James didn’t think prevarication would go over well.

 

“Then he can buy me more pretty things, like those cuff links you ordered,” Q added.

 

“My man does love pretty things,” James agreed. “I’d buy you whatever your heart desires, lovely thing.”

 

Prescott smiled broadly. “Gentlemen, I think we can do business. Why don’t we set up a meeting for tomorrow with our current research and sales heads? Our sales guy has been complaining that he doesn’t have enough help.”

 

“That would be splendid,” James said, and looked over at Q. “What do you say, darling?”

 

“I think meetings are boring, but if you think we should I’ll go,” Q pouted prettily.

 

“More meetings means more pretty things, love,” James said with a smile.

 

“Then we can go?”

 

“Yes!”

 

Prescott’s smile widened, his whitened teeth showing. “I’ll have Claire set us up for another 1 o’clock, if that works for you.”

 

“Nothing going on besides spending a lot of time in the hotel room with this one,” James nodded at his partner.

 

Prescott rose. “Then we’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

Q and James rose, too. “Tomorrow, then. We’ll work up a proposal for your research and sales teams.”

 

“I have no doubt,” Prescott said, pressing their hands in firm shakes as he bowed them out of his office.

 

“Wow! That was quick. Darling, is it always that easy?” Q could be heard, loudly, as the pair wandered back down the hallway and out of the building to a waiting taxi.

 

Claire, who overheard, smiled.

 

IMBM

 

Q and James waited until they reached their suite in the Four Seasons before shedding their sales personas. Q peeled off his suit jacket and hung it neatly in the wardrobe, then quickly took care of the rest of his suit before changing into jeans and a plain blue tee and throwing himself onto one of the couches, legs over one arm rest.

 

“Hmmm,” James observed. “Ready for a break, are you?” More slowly, James rid himself of his own jacket before moving Q’s head off the couch seat so he could sit down. Q let him, then rested his own head on James’ strong right thigh.

 

“I absolutely hate pretending to be something I’m not,” Q said, voice muffled under the arm he’d thrown over his face.

 

“Does it help to know that he bought most of your vacant boy-toy act?” James asked, amused. “Or, that if opportunity knocked, I’d absolutely just let you be my boy-toy?”

 

One green eye peered up at him from under the arm. “Why can’t you be my boy-toy?”

 

“Any time, Q darling, any time.”

 

Q snorted, then stretched both arms over his head, his shirt riding up to bare firm, pale abs and belly. “Why don’t we just move to the beach somewhere and be each other’s boy-toys for the rest of our lives together?”

 

James caught one of Q’s hands and kissed the palm. “We’d get bored. Eventually.”

 

Q collapsed back down, but left his hand in James’. “Probably.” He yawned. “Sit rep, 007?”

 

“To me, it appeared to be an ordinary factory, with a cheerful admin, and a charismatic CEO,” James admitted. “But there are clearly undercurrents there.”

 

“Hence your magical back-up,” Q said. “ They’ve made liberal use of expansion charms, and tried to dose us with what I suspect is a Veritaserum derivative. It can’t be true Veritaserum, because that would make us truly vacant and unable to speak anything other than the truth to questions directed to us specifically. Neither Claire or Prescott expected that, clearly, so it’s got to be something else, something that would force us to be honest about our motivations.”

 

“What did you do with the tea?”

 

“Switched it with that in my briefcase thermos.” Q settled more comfortably in James’ lap. “I’ll give it to Severus for analysis when he gets back from Mumbai. He’ll be able to tell us more.”

 

“So, definitely magical involvement then.”

 

“Definitely. And Prescott is in on it, even if he’s not magical himself. I actually suspect Claire. As an admin, she’s well placed to add any glamours, potions, what have you, as necessary, and acts a bit of a watchdog in terms of who has access to the facility. I can’t tell unless I cast the charm, and she’d know if I’d done that in a heartbeat,” Q mused. “But it’s a logical guess.”

 

James nodded. “Any other intelligence we can gather, covertly?”

 

“I didn’t see a server room anywhere, so we’d have to go in and try to find it. We could do that under cover, but I’d rather wait until after our meeting tomorrow, see if we can examine the space as we’re led through this time.”

 

“Fair enough.”

 

IMBM

 

Alec quickly cast charms to see if the factory he was about to (hopefully) infiltrate had magical protection. The charms, taught to him by Severus, supposedly revealed the presence of wards, though not necessarily the type. That was a different charm that Alec could pull out if he needed to.

 

The light presence at the end of his wand revealed no wards at the boundaries of the property, so Alec disillusioned himself and tentatively moved forward, keeping to the shadows as he approached the double back door to the industrial building, which topped a set of metal movable stairs that could be shoved aside to make the back door a loading dock if needed. He cast again. No wards.

 

Alec picked the lock--no need to alert them to a magical presence, after all--and slipped inside, noting security cameras as he went, silently moving from shadow to shadow as he made his way down the corridors to the main office, following the map in his head. At each corridor intersection, he quietly cast the ward charm, and as he approached the office door, he finally got a hit.

 

It was warded.

 

Quietly, Alec cast the second charm to reveal the type of ward. His wand tip glowed blue, which indicated that the office itself was warded against magical interference.

 

Interesting. Alec thought for a moment, then, staying in the shadow of the corridor, disengaged the disillusionment charm and put his wand away. As a trained 00 operative, he didn’t really need magic to break into an office. So, the non-magical way would work.

 

He slipped on Q’s platinum magic-dampening braceless to tamp down his own magical signature, then picked the lock on the front door, making an absent note that electronic security appeared to be non-existent.

 

Not all companies could have a genius like Q getting around the magic-versus-electricity problem, he supposed, as the tumblers finally disengaged. Alec slipped inside the office and again noted the absence of cameras or electronic security. He paced the perimeter of the darkened space, holding his braceleted wrist out from himself, and caught a glimmer in the northwest corner of the office. He placed his gloved hand over the glimmer, and found a door.

 

Alec slid his hand over the door until he found the handle, and tried it. Locked. He pulled out his lock picks, set the bracelet against the door handle, and kept it there with his non-dominant hand to offset the glamour while he went to work with the other, mentally crossing his fingers that he could work the picks one-handed. It took him a few minutes, as opposed to a few seconds, but Alec finally heard the click he was looking for, and slipped inside of what appeared to be the server room.

 

The boundaries of the glamour apparently ended at the door, preserving the electronics inside. Alec pondered the tech for a second. Didn’t James run into glamoured electronics? How did that work? He shrugged. Different locations, different degrees of knowledge, he supposed. And he’d leave that up to Q to figure out.

 

But his goal was in sight, so Alec pulled the memory stick out of his pocket, popped it into the USB port on the right side of the machine, watched its light go on, and timed thirty seconds on his watch. The light went out at 25 seconds, but Alec waited the full thirty before disengaging the stick, slipping back out the door to the main office, and taking another good look around before heading back to the main corridor, still keeping to the shadows as he went out the office door. He locked it behind himself, keeping his face down, and stepped back into the dark corridor to disillusion himself and head back out.

 

IMBM

 

Q’s tablet beeped.

 

IMBM

 

Halfway around the world from Alec’s Texan adventure, Severus sipped another cup of tea and reviewed the names Parvati had given him. None were recognizable to him, at any rate, but he supposed therein lay the genius of the plan. Unknown in the magical world, these first generation magicals could do some serious damage, if they were so inclined.

 

Severus emailed the list to Q. He still had to wait until sundown before he could infiltrate the factory.

IMBM

 

Q’s tablet beeped again.

 

IMBM

 

“Are you certain they meant to give me 500 galleons for a little party, Ron?” Molly Weasley asked her youngest son.

 

“Yes, Mum; Harry transferred it to your vault while I was talking to him,” Ron said, swallowing a bit of toast. He’d come by for breakfast and to update his mother before heading into the shop. It was Hermione’s day to bring their troublemakers to pre-school before going to work herself.

 

“That’s an awful lot of money for a small party,” Molly worried.

 

“James said to tell you they left everything in your competent hands, and that you should be sure to let them know if you need more,” Ron assured her. “I think they just wanted to ensure you weren’t spending any of your own money on them, Mum. They’ve got more than enough.”

 

“Well, they’ll be getting back a detailed list of expenses and their leftover funds, at any rate,” Molly said firmly. “But this does set us up for quite a nice gathering, I should think.”

 

“They’ve left all the planning to you, but just be aware you’ll need an alternate date or two, just in case.”

 

Molly nodded. “If we have it here, then the rest can be managed on the spot if it’s all prepared ahead of time.”

 

Ron finished his tea. “Let me know what we can do to help, Mum. And use the money, won’t you? Don’t wear yourself out doing all the cooking or anything like that.”

 

“Ronald, if I choose to cook for my children, I will,” Molly said sternly, then sighed. “But I’ll hire help. We’ll get a tent for the backyard, with draperies in green and blue, for the color of their eyes. I’ll need a guest list …” And Molly wandered off to her own backyard with her wand to start measuring.

 

Ron waved her off. “Have fun, Mum! I’m off to work!”

 

And he pulled out his phone.

 

IMBM

 

Q’s tablet beeped.

 

CLONE COMPLETE.

NAMES ATTACHED.

MUM’S ON IT.

 

Q picked it up. “Looks like we’ve work to do.”

  
“After dinner, darling.”


	8. An Unexpected Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus runs into trouble, and Q and James bail him out a bit.

Q surfed into the cloned server from Alec’s earlier mission and sighed at the new list of names that popped up.

 

“This is global,” he muttered. “Not that we didn’t know that, but…”

 

James stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankles, head leaning against the sofa’s backrest and his hands clasped in front of him. “We did. But are you finding more to the rabbit hole, then?”

 

Q nodded absently. “More companies, more employees. I’m cross-referencing some of the names that Parvati provided us from India against the employee databases and coming up with some fairly significant overlaps. It’s like unraveling the thread of a sweater. It just keeps coming.”

 

“Until someone cuts the thread,” James commented absently, eyes on Q. “We at that point, yet?”

 

Q shook his head negatively. “We need to find out all of the players before we can think of cutting threads.” His tablet beeped again. “Alec’s report.” Q opened it up, and skimmed it. “Alec doesn’t think the people in Texas have the same skill level as those in Singapore. The electronics were shielded from magical interference only by distance, really. He didn’t spot any dampeners, and the wards that protected the main office stopped at the door to the server room.”

 

“The Australian contingent seems more skilled, too,” James pointed out. “And rather brazen, to attempt a potion on apparent non-magicals who were there for a visit.”

 

“Ah, that reminds me,” Q said, shooting a text off to Severus, asking for potions assistance. He had a reply in seconds.

“Severus says there are a few Veritaserum derivatives that make one amenable to truthful and honest behavior without the dead-eyed glaze that one normally gets with a full dose. He’ll analyze what we have upon his return from Mumbai, which will be shortly after his own mission tonight … in about three hours.” Q texted back an affirmative rapidly.

 

“Given that neither of us presented a dead-eyed glare, and it was unremarked upon, I assume we’re likely looking for something like that?” James asked.

 

“Quite likely,” Q confirmed, and dove back into Alec’s informational treasure trove.

 

IMBM

 

Severus Disillusioned himself, tapped a short message to Q, who was on standby in Sydney as his emergency back-up, and apparated to the front door of the Mumbai pharmaceutical company he was investigating.

 

The blueprints of the facility on file showed the office to be located on the left, just past the first fork to the left after the entrance. Severus cast the ward charm, and he stumbled across the first stumbling block of the mission.

 

Warded. With blood wards.

 

Interesting.

 

Severus thought for a second, then tagged Q in a text. BLOOD WARDS.

 

A quick response from Q: CAN YOU TELL WHO THEY’RE KEYED TO?

 

Another charm from Severus, another text. NO.

 

Ten seconds later, Q responded. ABORT AND RETREAT TO HOTEL FOR MEET.

 

Severus tapped back. ACKNOWLEDGED.

 

And left with a soft “pop” of sound.

 

IMBM

 

“Care to come with me,” Q asked James drowsily. The pair were cuddled up in the pre-dawn of a Sydney morning.

 

“Hmmm? Where to?”

 

“Egypt for a tick. Meet with Severus; mission had to be aborted.”

 

“Have I mentioned that I love magic?” James leaned up and curled over the top of his bonded. Gently, he pressed Q into the mattress with his body, and kissed him thoroughly. “To India and back before breakfast.”

 

Q purred. “Let me just make a portkey.”

 

James rolled off and let him up, and the pair dressed while Q filled in the blanks for James. He then grabbed his briefcase and a stray sock, visualized the Egyptian hotel that was Severus’ emergency meet destination, and whispered, “Portus.” The sock glowed blue, James placed a hand on it, and the pair vanished, only to appear with a slight stumble in the suite.

 

“Severus,” Harry greeted him.

 

“Q,” Severus acknowledged. “James.”

 

Nods all around signaled the start of business. “You said they’re blood wards?”

 

“Among others,” Severus nodded. “I took a couple of readings. I could break all the others, I think, but without knowing who the blood wards are keyed to, I won’t be able to enter the facility magically.”

 

“It’s set to eject magicals entirely?”

 

“Those who haven’t been keyed in, yes.” Severus confirmed. “You’ll need a non-magical agent to get into that facility.”

 

Q scrubbed his face with both hands, ruffled his hair vigorously, and turned his green eyes on James, who scowled.

 

“Q, we’re set up under cover in Sydney,” James reminded him. “And the mark’s already seen us. We can’t switch up now, or we’ll lose our in there.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Q acknowledged, thinking. “I didn’t anticipate blood wards. They’re usually only associated with highly secure properties, like ancestral homes.”

 

“And Boys-Who-Lived,” Severus snarkily added under his breath.

 

Q rolled his eyes, having heard him perfectly. “Yes, well, and those were highly unusual, weren’t they?”

 

“True,” Severus acknowledged. “Rather ingenious, at that.”

 

“So, you need a non-magical agent to retrieve the data from the Mumbai facility,” James summed it up. “Is it still dark in Mumbai?”

 

“Yes,” Severus confirmed. “Deep in the night.”

 

James sighed. “Brief me.”

 

IMBM

 

With a pass of his hand, Q ensured James was clothed entirely in black, and he transfigured a pillow into a black knit ski mask. James wore his standard weaponry, and he handed his platinum bracelet to Q for safekeeping.

 

Ejecting any and all magic meant anything he wore had to be entirely non-magical. The platinum dampener should work, but Q wasn’t prepared to chance it. Forceful ejection from blood wards usually ended up bloody for the ejectee, and Q preferred his spouse alive, thank you very much.

 

“You’ll have to ignore what your eyes are telling you, James,” Q told him briskly. Use your other senses if you can.” He affixed an earbud and tracker to James’ ear--standard mission wear--and popped up his bio signature on the tablet he carried habitually. “I’ll track from here. I’ve commandeered a satellite feed, and I should have infrared momentarily. I’ll be able to tell you if there are any live bodies in there, and I should be able to warn you of any magical traps. Though, truth be told, I think they’re likely counting on the blood wards to keep all the real threats out.”

 

“Well, they’ve never met me, then, have they?” James said confidently. He checked his service weapon, secured the memory stick, and stood at attention. “Ready to go, dear.”

 

Q rolled his eyes, but leaned in to kiss him, briefly. “Stay safe. Severus will take you there. Remember, in and out.”

 

“Acknowledged, darling.”

 

James saw Q raise a hand as the world winked out around him, and with a rush, he and Severus appeared on the dark streets of magical Mumbai. “Ready for the next step?” Severus leaned in to ask.

 

“Yes; apparated with Q a time or two.”

 

“I imagine so,” Severus said quietly, then took James’ arm and turned on his heel.

James felt as if squeezed by a tube, and they popped into existence in a shadow outside the edges of the wards. Severus let go of his arm, then stepped back, Disillusioning himself once more. “I’ll wait here to get you out of here.”

 

James nodded, and pulled his mask down. Keeping to the shadows, he made his way to the building, passing through the wards easily and making his way to a window on the first floor rather than to the well-lit, secured front entrance. He pulled out his glass cutter, tapped out the square of glass, and set it gently on the ground before rolling over the ledge and into the darkened main lobby. He kept to the ground, using his eyes to scan for cameras, and seeing none. Quietly, James slipped out into the main corridor, taking the left fork at the first turn, and moving toward the first door on the left.

 

He picked the lock quickly, then stepped into an office identical to the one he saw in Singapore, two doors and all. James shrugged and headed for the right door first, quietly entering the duplicate to the Singapore server room, and shuffling over to the corner where the server lay hidden. He felt for the USB port, plugged the memory stick  in, and counted to thirty slowly before disengaging and backtracking out of the room.

 

“Q, do I have any company at all?”

 

“None, 007. I see you clearly on the infrared, and I could see the cool special aura in the room you were just in, but there’s no one else there. Just make your way out if you can.”

 

“Acknowledged.”

 

James made his way back out through the lobby to his open window, slipped out, and carefully replaced the glass in the frame. With luck, no one would notice that it wasn’t secure, at least for awhile. “Making my way out to 0010 now,” he said quietly, keeping, again, to shadows as he crossed the ward line and was met with a tap on his shoulder from Severus, who made himself visible in order to identify himself and hold out the portkey.

 

James grasped it, Severus tapped it with his wand, and they vanished, to reappear in front of Q, who was still watching the infrared.

 

“Huh,” Q said. “Someone just showed up.”

 

James pulled his ski mask off his head and leaned over his bonded’s shoulder. “Really?”

 

“Yeah. Good B & E, 007; you were in and out in less than five minutes. But you did trip the wards, I think, because, look, there, see?” Q pointed to the screen as a clearly magical individual raced to the front door and jerked it open. “That’s a frantic company owner, or I miss miss my guess. And he’s got the cool magic aura on him.”

 

James shrugged. “Unless he checks all the windows, he’s not going to find any proof that anyone was there, much less me. I don’t even leave a magical signature behind.”

 

“No, you don’t,” Q acknowledged, watching the infrared man race around the lobby, checking computers, then head back to the main office, checking locks and windows. “He’s releasing the glamour now.” The figure appeared to be running its hands over the server. “Checking the server.” Then the figure pulled a device out of its pocket and held to an ear. “Ah, phone. Checking in with someone. Wish I’d thought to have you place a bug in there, 007.”

 

“Wouldn’t know what kind to place, I suppose,” James said. “Still, I think we’ve learned a bit here.”

 

“Too bad you didn’t have a regular camera on him,” Severus commented. “We could get a face.”

 

“Oh, right. I can get that.” Q pulled up the black and white satellite feed and tracked it back in time to the person’s race across the courtyard to the front door. “Ah. Here we are.”

 

All they could see was black hair, as he didn’t look up to the satellite at any point during his race. He also appeared to be wearing a basic tunic and trousers, and was clearly male.

 

Q pulled up the list of names Severus gave him, and matched the employee database, now happily downloading to his tablet, with pictures to the man in the photo.

 

“Shahid Hussein.” Q said it quietly, then pulled up the photo. “It’s the only one it could be, based on what we know.

 

The trio looked at the face on the screen.

 

“Looks like we have a player, gentlemen,” Q said softly. “I’ll brief M. And we need to get back to Australia, 007.”

 

“Potion?” James reminded him.

 

“Ah, yes.” Q rummaged in his brief case for the thermos of spiked tea there. “Severus, this is what Prescott’s admin tried to feed us. Switched it out for Earl Grey. Can you see what it was she was giving us?”

 

Severus took the thermos. “I’ll get back to my own lab now, and you’ll have the results within the hour.”

 

“Thanks,” Q said with a smile. “And do get some sleep. I suspect we’ll be needing it before too much longer.”

“I will,” Severus gave a small smile, then twisted his ring to head back to England.

  
Q gathered up his things, held out the sock to James, and the pair vanished back to Sydney.


	9. Conspiracies afoot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q finds connections he didn't want to find.

Q worked his tablet, running data from the two cloned servers and generating lists of employees, cross-referencing for people in common, and noting matches. He input varied locations, then loaded those to a global map and blew it up into 3-D.

 

“Would you look at that?” he murmured, catching James’ attention from where he was lazily channel surfing.

 

“Hmmm?”

 

“Just a hunch, but,” Q tapped out a few more commands and a set of red lines overlay the already pulsing blue dots that represented known magically-influenced mundane companies. “Oh, dear.”

 

James glanced over to the 3-D globe spinning magically in front of his partner. “What do you see that I don’t?”

 

“All of these companies are on or near ley lines,” Q huffed out a breath. “The magicals are trying to take over the world, one company at a time.”

 

“Well, that’s a leap, isn’t it?” James asked reasonably.

 

“If it’s a leap, it’s a bloody educated one,” Q snapped out, then paused, and ran a hand over his face. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to snap at you. But they’re tapping into the Earth’s primary magical energy supply lines, or at least, they’re gearing up to. They’ve also got someone installing HVAC systems that can release a targeted solution via air, and pharmaceutical companies that are--oh look!--selling common magical potions as solutions to common mundane illnesses and conditions, such as weight loss.”

 

James stood, walked over to Q, and rubbed his shoulders. “What can we do to stop it?” he asked quietly, trying to redirect him.

 

Q breathed out, sharply, and leaned into the touch. “We have to find the leader, or leaders, and take them out, dismantle the network.”

 

“Do we have any leads on that?”

 

“Hussein shows up on Parvati’s list. So does Claire, here. Actually, Claire shows up on several lists, so I’m going to go ahead and hypothesize that she’s one leader.” Q closed his eyes briefly. “A concentrated network of what some still call muggle born, trying to take over the non-magical world. I think we need to look at their magical schooling. England was not kind to the muggleborn during my schooling, what with a Dark Lord and all, and hordes left.” He sat straight up. “I need to cross-reference these folks against Hogwarts class rolls. And I need to talk to Hermione.”

 

“Claire is clearly not British, Q,” James pointed out. “Speech patterns aside, she’s Aussie.”

 

“As Hussein is of Middle Eastern descent,” Q nodded, “but Parvati, who provided us the intel, is both Indian and British, and attended Hogwarts. And if there was a conspiracy of the brightest of the muggleborns, why is Hermione not a part of it? And would she be aware of it?”

 

“Good questions,” James acknowledged. “So, line it up.”

 

“Well, we continue our shmoozing of Prescott and Claire,” Q said reasonably. “If she’s one of the leaders, we need to confirm that, and try to get the names of the others out of her. We need to continue gathering intel from the other companies. And I need to talk to Hermione, see if she’s ever been approached by someone.”

 

James looked at his watch. “We have an hour to kill before we have to get ready for our second meet.”

 

“You do,” Q agreed. “I’ll start by calling Hermione.” His tablet beeped, and Q looked at the message, from Severus. “Ah, Severus identified the potion. It was a Veritaserum derivative, as we suspected, but with a susceptibility kicker. Meant to make us honest and open to suggestion. Interesting. Don’t drink the tea today, dear.”

 

“Of course not, darling.”

 

Q grinned up at him. “Feel free to act susceptible, though. I love being able to use PDA.”

 

James laughed.

 

IMBM

 

M raised an eyebrow at Kingsley Shacklebolt. “You’re serious?”

 

Kingsley nodded tersely. “If Q doesn’t make a public appearance soon, the British magicals will likely revolt in some fashion.”

 

“That’s patently ridiculous,” M scoffed. “He’s one man!”

“The Savior of the Wizarding World,” Kingsley intoned, emphasizing each word. “Think royalty. Though he hardly acknowledges it, the public has decided it has a right to know, everything. You need to call him back.”

 

“And he needs to be saving the wizarding world, again,” M said firmly. “He’s on mission, and early reports so far show that there’s some sort of conspiracy, born among magicals raised in non-magical homes, to take over the world. It’s in its mid-stages, from what we can tell, so if we can find the leaders, we can knock it out. But it’s slow going because of our lack of magically trained operatives.”

 

Kingsley regarded him intently. “Origins?”

 

“Not Britain. At least not that we can see, though British nationals are involved,” M confirmed. “If you want to help, find me more operatives I can use.”

 

“There I might be able to help you,” Shacklebolt said. He drew out the specially modified tablet Q had given him, and tapped the screen. “There. Files for the upcoming class of Aurors in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Take a look. See if there’s any you’d like to try to recruit. The ones I’ve highlighted are born of non-magical families, or have one non-magical parent.”

 

“Thank you,” M said, scrolling through the list. “I’ll take a look.”

 

Kingsley hesitated. “And please, M, if you can manage it. The wizarding world is whipping itself into a frenzy over needing to see Q, in some fashion. If you can release him, even for a day, just to make a statement …”

 

M sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

IMBM

 

“This is utterly ridiculous,” Hermione Granger-Weasley muttered, reading over The Daily Prophet. “What do they think Harry’s going to do? Shower chocolates on a crowd in Diagon Alley?”

 

“Be a talking point, wouldn’t it?” Ron commented, feeding Hugo a bit more dinner. “What’s it saying now?”

 

“Oh, rubbish about conspiracies, and new rumours about him being ill with spattergoit or studying in Tibet with the monks,” Hermione wrinkled her nose. “Why are they so frantic for news of him? Didn’t that nugget of his being bonded settle them?”

 

Ron reached over and poured Rosie a bit more milk. “More like opened the floodgates. He’d been quiet for years, but now that there’s a bit of news, they all want more. Reminds me of fourth year, a bit.”

 

Hermione got a familiar, lightning-bolt expression on her face. “What if it’s a campaign?”

 

“Come again?”

 

“Oh, you remember, Ron, how Rita Skeeter made that effort to make Harry look demented, fifth year? How it was a ministry conspiracy, really, with cooperation from the Prophet?”

 

“Yeees,” Ron drawled out, suddenly seeing where this was going, and not liking it at all.

 

“What if someone IS trying draw Harry out? What if their whole point is to get him in public for some reason?”

 

“What reason could they possibly have?” Ron asked, thinking hard.

 

“Nothing good; that’s certain,” Hermione said firmly. “I need to talk to Harry.”

 

“He’s on mission, out of the country,” Ron told her. “I’ve got his number, but I’m not sure when he’d be free. Shall I text him?”

 

Hermione smiled at her husband. “I love it when you do non-magical things competently.”

 

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Turns you on, does it?”

 

She laughed at him. “Absolutely. I think we conceived Hugo the night you surprised me with movies on DVD.”

 

IMBM

 

MATE--CALL MIONE WHEN YOU GET A CHANCE--RW

 

IMBM

 

“Well, if that’s not a case of great minds thinking alike…” Q trailed off, looking at the phone in his hand. He dialed up Ron’s number.

 

“Hello?” Ron answered.

 

“It’s me, Ron. I need to talk to Mione, too,” Q said.

 

“Passing the phone …” Q heard rustling, then Hermione came on.

 

“Harry, the papers are all demanding you show yourself, and I think it’s a conspiracy to get you to show yourself, which means you really need to keep your head down, or find out why someone really wants you show yourself,” Hermione spit out breathlessly.

 

Q blinked. “Ooookaay. Not what I was going to say, but, fine. Thanks, Hermione. Keep an ear on that, would you?”

 

“Absolutely. And you wanted to talk to me?”

 

“Yes, did you ever get approached by other muggleborn about trying to take over the world?”

 

“Happens at least once a year,” she answered promptly. “This year’s applicant was Justin Finch-Fletchley, who was looking into magical solutions for stock market picks. I turned him down, and reminded him that the International Statute of Secrecy precluded him from using magical means in non-magical arenas.”

 

“Anything long term? Any approaches seem more aggressive than others?”

 

Hermione thought. “Not really. I’m the deputy head of the DMLE; the only ones who really approach me knew me before I graduated Hogwarts.”

 

“Like Justin.”

 

“Like Justin,” she agreed. “What this about, then?”

 

“Just, we’ve uncovered what looks like a global conspiracy by magicals to take over the non-magical world, and its leaders appear to be muggleborn,” Q disclosed. “If I were leading such a conspiracy, I would want Britain’s best-known muggleborn witch to help me out.”

 

Silence.

 

“Hermione?” Q asked tentatively.

 

“Just thinking, Harry,” she said quietly. “Let me reflect on that and get back to you. There was a lot of talk, just after the war, but I dismissed it as just that. Talk. You know. ‘If the purebloods can do it, why can’t we, and we’re so much better because we’d rule not just the wizarding world, but everybody ...’ It was sort of standard pub stuff at the time, but I was busy. And uninterested. I just didn’t think anything would come of it.”

 

“If any names come to you, do let me know, won’t you?” Q asked. “And Hermione, don’t stress about it. Just let it come to you, and text me if you think of anything.”

“I can do that,” she affirmed. “Meanwhile, I’ll also keep an eye on who’s campaigning for you to make a public appearance. I can’t help but think there’s a reason for that.”

 

Q shrugged. “Guess we’ll see.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks, Hermione.”

 

“No problem,” Hermione said. “Love you, Harry. Stay safe.”

 

“Will do, Mum,” he teased her. And hung up.

 

James, who was watching Q’s face, said, “Problem?”

 

“Maybe.” Q set his phone down, then moved to the couch where James was sitting and straddled his lap. “Hermione thinks the current Harry Potter feeding frenzy in Britain is being fed by someone. Or something. As a means to get me to make a public appearance for some reason.”

 

“Related?” James asked, stroking his hands up and down Q’s back.

 

“Possibly.” Q thought about it. “It’s common knowledge that my mother was born of non-magical parents. Do you suppose our conspirators want to get my attention?”

 

“One step at a time, Q,” James advised, then pulled him down for a soft kiss. “One step at a time.”

 

They kissed softly for a few minutes, then Q drew back and sighed. “We need to get ready for the next meet.”

 

“We do,” James agreed.

 

They rose and dressed, before heading out into the bright Australian sunshine.

 

IMBM

 

Claire Engles was put out.

 

Quite put out, as a matter of fact.

 

Two gorgeous men, both on a potion to make them amenable to suggestion--and they only wanted each other?

 

A waste, in her opinion.

 

It was such fun playing with the muggles, she thought, conveniently forgetting about her own roots. A potion there, a spell here, and she could make them do anything she’d like.

 

Except, apparently, flirt with her when they only wanted to flirt with each other.

 

She pouted.

 

Perhaps she needed to kick things up a notch? Claire thought about that. Perhaps get a little hair from one of them? Maybe add it to a love potion?

 

That blond was hot, but the brunette? Well, he was utterly gorgeous.

 

Something from the potion number 9 collection?

 

Claire giggled. It was all such fun! Magic made life so much more interesting. So much more fulfilling.

 

So much more profitable.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10: Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bond and Q have fun with Claire.

**Ch. 10: Interrogation**

 

Q straightened his tie and stepped out into the sitting area of the suite to collect his briefcase, newly equipped with a thermos of Earl Grey and his usual toys. He kept his tablet in his inner jacket pocket, and checked that the Elder Wand was secure in its forearm holster.

 

“Believe I’m ready,” he called back to James, who was just reaching for his own jacket.

 

“Me, as well,” James said, settling his jacket and straightening his own tie. “Let me just get my briefcase, and we can go.”

 

“New parameters for this one, 007,” Q said, glancing at his partner. “Orders from M. Detain Claire Engels for questioning, discreetly if possible.”

 

James nodded thoughtfully. “Before or after our meeting with Prescott?”

 

“Suppose we’ll just have to play it by ear.” Q kissed James’ cheek. “Ready, dear?”

 

“Yes, darling.”

 

IMBM

 

“Dr. Prescott had an emergency,” Claire Engels told the men, cackling on the inside. “I’m sorry to tell you he’s been delayed for at least an hour. Would you care to wait? I can bring you some tea.”

 

Q glanced at James, who nodded back at him. “Actually, we’d like to talk to you,” he said coquettishly. “Can we take you out for a late lunch? Or a drink?”

 

Claire smiled broadly. “I’d love that. Let me just get my purse and use the ladies’.” Q winked at her flirtatiously, James smirked enticingly, and Claire stepped out of her office, giddy at the prospect of a late lunch with two gorgeous men, no magic required.

 

As she left, Q stepped around her desk, quickly casting ward detection charms. Finding none, he plugged his own memory drive into her USB port, with James blocking the view from the doorway as he counted down to thirty, then disengaged the drive and stepped back. As Claire strutted back into her main office, she saw the men leaning back on her desk, hip-shot and predatory.

 

Something fluttered in her chest.

 

“Where would you like to go?” Claire asked, peering up at the pair from under her lashes.

 

James stepped smoothly forward, grasping her right hand and turning it over to lay a kiss on her palm. “Would you care to join us at our hotel? They serve a lovely late luncheon.”

 

She gasped as Q stepped forward on her other side, taking her left hand and brushing her knuckles with his lips. “Or, perhaps,” Q purred into her ear, “we could get room service.”

 

Claire gave a full body shudder. “Oh, I think that would be lovely.”

 

Q breathed into her ear. “Follow us.”

 

Flanked by Q on her left and James on her right, Claire walked right out of the building and into their waiting car. They chatted quietly in the back seat about the weather, with Claire giving tips on the best beaches and restaurants. As they pulled up to the Four Seasons, Claire gasped loudly. “You’re staying here? Business must be good.”

 

“Positively booming,” James confirmed heartily.

 

“It keeps me in Armani,” Q laughed, and opened his door, reaching a hand into guide Claire out. “We’ve got a suite. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

 

James nodded. “We can see what’s on the menu when we get up there.”

 

Claire looked coyly at them both. “Besides me?” she fluttered her lashes.

 

“Mmmmm,” Q hummed at her, resting a hand on her lower back as he guided her through the front doors and to the elevators. “You’ll be pleasantly surprised by what’s on the menu, I think.”

 

James walked behind them, keeping an eye on the crowd, but making sure the three of them looked like a trio heading for a bit of mid-day fun. His glare turned away two others looking to get into their car as Q steered Claire into it. James pressed the button for their floor and coolly turned his gaze on Claire, who was obviously leaning into Q. “How is it that a lovely woman such as yourself is able to join us out today?” he flirted.

 

Claire giggled. “Oh, well, my old boyfriend would have just joined in, but I’m single just now. I’m not even going to pretend I don’t find the pair of you ridiculously attractive.” She leaned even more into Q, and reached a hand out to James. “I admit I thought about this possibility a lot last night.”

 

“So did we,” Q continued to whisper huskily into her ear, noting her body responses as his breath hit the sensitive skin. “We’d have settled for drinks today, but if you’re willing …” he trailed off.

 

“We’re able and ready,” James filled in, mentally rolling his eyes at the cheesy line.

 

It worked, though, as Claire shuddered again, imagining the things the pair of them could do to her.

 

“Oh, boys,” she gave a throaty moan. “You have no idea how much fun we can have together.”

 

Q only smirked, and James took Claire’s hand as the car opened. He led her to the Suite door, and they brought her inside. “Drink?” James asked as he sat her on the sofa and headed toward the bar.

 

“Please,” Claire said.

 

“What would you like?” Q said, seating himself on the sofa next to her, gently running his hands down her arms to see if he could find her wand. It wasn’t holstered to an arm, so he dropped to his knees in front of her, and ran his hands along her legs, finding it holstered to her right thigh.

 

“Oh, that’s a right good start,” she squeaked, and Q grinned dangerously as he banished her wand to his secured briefcase and stood. Claire didn’t even notice it missing, so caught up in the fantasy she’d had playing out in reality.

 

Inwardly, Q sighed at the stupidity of the easily played, but shrugged it off as James came back to the sofa with two glasses of champagne, one carefully doctored with true Veritaserum. “Bubbly?”James asked gruffly, handing her doctored glass. Claire nodded eagerly, taking a deep sip as Q took his own glass from James and sipped as well.

 

James went back to the bar to serve himself a glass, and held it up. “To new friendships!” he toasted. They all drank, obediently, and Q held up his own glass. “To new loves!” They drank.

 

Claire began to glaze over. “To money!” she shouted, and slurred it out as she finished her glass.

 

“And there we are,” Q said quietly, then crouched down. “Claire, what is your full name?”

 

“Claire Elia DiNardi Engels,” she replied slowly. James pulled out his tablet, aimed it at Claire, and started recording the interrogation.

 

“Where did you receive your magical training?”

 

“Castello dei Segreti Nascosti.”

 

James raised an eyebrow, but nodded at Q to continue.

 

“Are you a part of a group that plans to take over the non-magical world?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Does the group have a name?”

 

“No.”

 

“Name the other members of the group and where they’re located.” Claire began listing names, followed by their countries of origin. She named names for ten full minutes before stopping. Q calmly continued the questioning.

 

“What is your role in this group?”

 

“I keep Dr. Prescott on task.”

 

“What is his task?”

“To create a potion that will make the non-magicals do what we want, when we want it, that can be dispersed through air.”

 

“Has he succeeded?”

 

“No.”

 

“How much has he been able to achieve?”

 

“He has the potion, but it still must be ingested.”

 

“Are others working on this task?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“We each have only one task. In that way, if one of us is compromised, the entire mission is not.”

 

“Do you have a leader?”

 

“No.”

 

“How do you make decisions?”

 

“We decide as a council. Once a task is assigned, only the council can countermand a decision.”

 

“Where does the council meet?”

 

“London.”

 

“Where in London?” Q watched as Claire’s facial features froze and she began to visibly struggle. “Never mind the question.” She relaxed. “Can you tell me where in London?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“The location is under a Fidelius Charm.”

 

“Can you tell me the Secret Keeper?”

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“That information is also under a Fidelius Charm.”

 

“Who can tell me the name of the Secret Keeper for the London location?”

 

“Hermione Granger.”

 

Q reeled back. James stood abruptly and placed a calming hand on Q’s shoulder. “Take a minute,” he whispered. “She’s keeping the secret about a secret keeper, not the location. We already know they’ve attempted to recruit her.”

 

Q nodded, and took a deep breath. “Hermione Granger’s name was not on your list of members. Why?”

 

Claire’s brow furrowed. “She is not a member of our group.”

 

“Why does she hold the secret of the secret keeper?”

 

“They are friends. It was a favor. Ms. Granger suggested it as a method of keeping a Secret Keeper secret in conversation.”

 

“Why?”

 

“She was researching ways to make the charm more secure as part of her job.”

 

Q nodded slowly at that. “What is the name of Hermione Granger’s friend?” Claire’s face contorted and he added quickly, “Never mind.” It relaxed.

 

“Why does your group not have a name?” Q asked.

 

“Security. In magic, if something is named, it can be contained and manipulated. Therefore, we have no name.” Claire began to visibly struggle again, and Q could tell the Veritaserum was wearing off.  He sat back, then looked at her thoughtfully before wandlessly binding her wrists.

 

“I need to brief M,” he told James. “Not sure what we want to do with her now.”

 

“Ministry holding cells?” James suggested.

 

“Or shall I use a curse to make her do our bidding?” Q shrugged. “That call is above my paygrade, so I’m going to call M.” He watched Claire struggle to herself, then wandlessly stunned her. “She won’t be going anywhere for a moment, but keep an eye out, will you, while I do that?”

 

“Absolutely,” James said. “Want me to upload this video file?”

 

“Please.”

 

IMBM

 

Kingsley Shacklebolt was not having a good day.

 

“You have an Italian and Australian magical citizen in custody?” he clarified with M, who was speaking with him via video chat. “And you want to do what, with her, exactly?”

 

“She knows who is behind the conspiracy to take over the non-magical world,” M explained patiently. “Apparently, she’s one of the leaders that serves on a council of sorts to make decisions about how to do that. Q wants a decision about what to do with her. Take her into custody, and risk the others figuring out that someone’s on to them? Or let her go, perhaps under some sort of charm to keep her under our control? That might lead us to more information.”

 

“How much more information do you need?” Kingsley asked, pinching his nose at the browline.

 

“We have names and locations, but they’re global. It’s beyond MI6 at this point. Q said something about the ICW?”

 

Kingsley groaned. “That would be a serious mission.” He thought for a moment. “If we have names and locations, take her into custody. We don’t know how much more we can get our of her, but at least our witness will be secure, even if she’s hostile. We’ll need that for ICW action. And the ICW doesn’t have any sort of armed forces, so I don’t know how we’re going to legally deal with a global conspiracy to take over the non-magical world.”

 

“Q didn’t know, either,” M soothed. “Said it was above his paygrade.”

 

Kingsley snorted. “He’s probably the only one that could do anything about it, magically. Legally, though, he’d need sanction from the ICW. And I don’t know what that would be.”

 

“Apparently, this group, which has no name, meets somewhere here in London that can’t be named,” M told him. “What we need to do is contain the group.”

 

Kingsley looked up. “It won’t contain the idea.”

 

“No,” M allowed, “but sometimes you take what you can get.”

 

Kingsley shook his head. “I’ll ready a holding cell for your guest and contact the ICW.”

 

“Understood,” M said. “I’ll contact Q right away.”

 

IMBM

 

While Q was waiting for M’s decision, he began to analyze the data from Claire’s computer. Claire was still out, and James was kicked back, watching the pair of them.

 

“You know,” James commented, “we never really did have that ‘past sexual experiences’ discussion.”

 

Q hummed absent-mindedly as he worked, but acknowledged the comment. “You want to have it?”

 

James shrugged. “I’m fairly an open book. And judging by your conversations with Ginny, you’re no slouch at casual sex.”

 

Q laughed. “I did go through a wild phase after the war. Ginny and I enjoyed playing with a number of people of both sexes, usually together, but not always. I’m more into men than women, but bisexuality is not uncommon in the wizarding world.”

 

James nodded, comfortable. “It’s probably as common in the non-magical world, though less acknowledged. I have generally looked toward women for my pleasure, but, then again, I was in the military. There’s still a subtle homophobia in the military, for all that most don’t care where one gets comfort from in a combat zone.”

 

“Your file certainly sets you up as a honeypot for women more often than men,” Q said absently.

 

“Though it has happened that I’ve employed my wiles on men in the field,” James acknowledged. “I only ask now, not because I’m not perfectly content with my bonded and our sex life, but because you seemed totally at ease with seducing Claire.”

 

Q blinked, and let his brain catch up to the conversation James was attempting to have with him. “Are you implying that you didn’t think I was capable of seducing someone?”

 

“No, not at all,” James said swiftly. “I know better than anyone else, I should think, that you’re very good at seduction.”

Q gave James his full attention. “What’s this about, James?”

 

“You know, I don’t really know,” James said ruefully. “I’m sorting it in my head. I’m a bit jealous, I think, and yet I know it’s irrationally stupid. Not only are we on mission, but we’re on mission together. And if we ever decided to have a third in our bed, it would be a mutual decision. But somehow, I don’t really feel that a third is something I want. Ever. It’s you, and you alone, who are it for me.” He took a deep breath. “Huh. How about that?”

 

Q walked over to James and straddled his lap, then leaned forward to press soft lips against his bonded’s, before leaning back to look into his blue, blue eyes. “You’re it for me, too, you know. You have been, since Skyfall.”

 

James smiled, and kissed him back. They kissed lazily for a few minutes, before Q’s tablet beeped with an incoming video chat. “Duty calls, I’m afraid,” Q murmured, then got off James’ lap and picked up the tablet to answer the call.

 

M stared up at him. “Transport Claire Engels to the MOM holding cells. Shacklebolt is preparing a secure place for her. I need the pair of you back in London, as well.”

 

“Understood, M. We’ll report on arrival.”

 

M nodded curtly, then cut the transmission.

 

Q sighed. “That’s that, then. Let’s get back, drop Claire at the Ministry, and report in.”

 

James stood up. “I’ll go pack us up.”

 

Q smirked and pulled his wand for show. “Allow me.”


	11. Idiots at the Ministry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and James at the Ministry.

**Ch 11: Idiots at the Ministry**

 

The stop at the Ministry of Magic was meant to be a quick: Hand over the prisoner and retreat to MI6.

 

However, the moment Q appeared in the Aurors’ service lobby with James and a prisoner in tow, the rumor of Harry Potter’s presence spread faster than even he could have imagined. Even as he turned Claire over to Auror in charge, Q could feel the crowd outside of the lobby building.

 

“James, be prepared for a crowd out of here,” Q murmured as he signed off on the prisoner transfer and Claire was hauled away.

James could see nothing outside the opaque glass that fronted the Auror lobby, but trusted his partner. “Could we not apparate out of here?”

 

Q shook his head. “Security measure--anti-apparation wards. Folks have tried to escape from Auror custody that way before. The lobby and the entire holding area are warded.”

 

James nodded thoughtfully, and leaned in to whisper in Q’s ear. “Does that apply to you, too?”

 

Q shrugged. “If I’d really wanted to, probably not,” he whispered back, running a fingertip along James’ ear as did so.

 

James grinned, shook his head, and held his hand out for Q to take. “Public it is, then. Just as well that we are gorgeous today.” He gestured with his other hand at their classic suits and mission attire. “Though aren’t you missing something?”

 

“Ah.” Harry pulled the frames of his trademark glasses out of his inner suit pocket and slipped them on. “Working my Clark Kent, here.”

 

James chuckled, and laced their fingers together. “So, where to?”

 

“We’ll need to proceed out of this lobby, to the elevators, up three floors to the Ministry lobby, and then out to the public apparation points past the Floo stations. ETA 10 minutes, or longer if we get stopped a lot. Which we might,” Harry allowed.

 

“Correction, darling,” James admonished. “Which we WILL, as we’re just putting our faces out here now. And didn’t you say something about us having to present something somewhere to affirm our bonding?”

 

“Oh, that’s right,” Harry squeezed James’ hand a bit. “Different floor, different department. Registering you with the Office of Muggle Affairs. Want to take care of that today?”

 

“As long as we’re here, why not?”

 

“Right, then, let’s go.”

 

Harry led the way through the Auror lobby doors to see crowds thickening in the corridor beyond that led to the elevator.

 

_“It’s Harry Potter!”_

_“He looks shorter than I remember.”_

_“Who’s that he’s with?”_

_“Could that be his bonded?”_

_“They’re both positively delicious!”_

Harry did his best to ignore the whispers as he and James strolled, hand-in-hand, to the elevators, and pressed the “UP” button for service. James just looked amused. They waited silently for the elevator, ignoring the steadily increasing volume of the corridor, and stepped into the car when it arrived, thankful it was empty.

 

“Wow,” James said snarkily. “You really are sort of a big deal.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, have your fun. You are now, too, you know.” He jabbed at the floor for the Department of Muggle Affairs.

 

“Hey,” James said softly, giving Harry’s hand a little tug. “I’m just trying to lighten things up a bit.”

 

Harry slumped, then turned into his partner for a brief hug. “Sorry. It’s just, I hate this attention. It’s the main reason I left the magical world, frankly.”

 

“I know, darling,” James soothed, running his free hand down his partner’s back. “We’ll be gone from here soon enough, and back home, where we can have a Dr. Who marathon and take a breather.”

 

Harry sighed deeply. “Sounds positively heavenly.”

 

The doors opened, and James quirked an eyebrow at the obvious watchers that filled the hallway. “Can we help you?” he asked, obviously and loudly. Many “eeped” and dashed off, but a few hangers-on loitered as they strolled down to the correct office and entered it.

 

The dark-haired, middle-aged witch behind the desk at the Office of Muggle Affairs gave them a wide smile. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re finally here!” she exclaimed, bustling around the desk to shake their hands in person. “I wondered when you’d make it back, Mr. Potter. And this must be Mr. Bond.”

 

“Yes,” James acknowledged, finally dropping Harry’s hand to shake that of the witch. “And you are?”

 

“Oh! So sorry! I haven’t introduced myself! I’m Mildred Montiface, the Clerk for the Office of Muggle Affairs,” she waved a flustered hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

 

“And you,” Harry said politely. “You have paperwork for us?”

 

“Oh, right,” Mildred bustled back around her desk. “It’s just the standard registration paperwork. Once it’s filed, Mr. Bond will be acknowledged as an honorary magical citizen. I’ve filled in most of the necessary given what the Bonding certificate said when it flashed in here. Take a look.”

 

Harry reviewed the form.

 

**Harry James Potter, born July 31, 1981, Godrics Hollow, Wales**

**bonded to**

**James Bond, born November 11, 1971, Skyfall, Hogsmeade, Scotland**

**April 15, 2010**

**London, England.**

****  
  


“We only don’t have a current address on file at this point, Mr. Potter,” Mildred gushed. “And of course, your magical signature, and a bit of blood from your Muggle spouse for ministry files.”

 

Harry looked up. “You may have the address and my signature, but you may NOT have my husband’s blood,” he said firmly. “It’s too dangerous.”

 

Mildred bit her lip. “But it’s the law, Mr. Potter. All muggles with magical ties must have blood on file, just in case …”

 

Harry looked at her coldly. “In case the muggles rise up? Really? Are we that indoctrinated in Dark pureblood practice that we would coerce the living blood of our spouses? I think not.” He signed the form, tapped it with his wand, and handed it back. “Please note that I refused to provide the blood of my spouse. I will be taking this matter up with the Minister immediately.”

 

“Oh, but Mr. Potter, it’s common! Everyone does it! It’s the law!”

 

“It’s also deeply unethical and morally dubious, and I won’t have it,” Harry remained firm, even as he pulled out his phone and dialed Kingsley.

 

“Mr. Potter, phones don’t work in the Ministry…”

 

“You’ll find his does,” James interrupted smoothly. Though he hadn’t a clue as to the reasons behind Harry’s objection, he trusted his spouse.

 

“But Mr. Potter! It’s just a bit of blood! He’s just a Muggle!”

 

The lights in the room dimmed. The cabinets started shaking. It was perhaps unfortunate that Kingsley Shacklebolt took that moment to answer Harry’s call--because the screen on the phone cracked as Harry viciously stated, “The Ministry of Magic shall not have my husband’s blood, and he is NOT JUST a Muggle.”

 

Kingsley had not a moment to register the statement before he felt the building itself shaking, and he quickly sent a Patronus to the office of Muggle Affairs with his own message: “Let him go. I’m granting an exemption.”

 

His lynx appeared in front of Harry and a bewildered, terrified Mildred (James was quietly watching, ready for anything) to impart the message, and Mildred’s eyes widened. “But, but..”

 

“You heard the man,” Harry growled out. “And be grateful for his intervention.” Hot green eyes glowed with power as Harry put his phone away and stepped away from the desk. James lay a quiet hand on Harry’s shoulder, ready to back him up if necessary, as Harry turned back.

 

“It’s prejudice like yours that keeps the Dark coming back,” he spat.

 

And they left.

 

Crowded hallways (magically?) emptied as Harry strode through the corridors to the lift, James at his back, watching for potential threats. The building was still quivering.

 

Harry said nothing as he called the car, they entered it, and it took them to the Ministry atrium, where, again, crowds peeled away in the face of Harry’s glowing green eyes and tightly controlled rage. On its fringes, James spied Arthur Weasley, and as they hit the Apparation points, he saw Hermione Granger-Weasley hurrying toward them.

 

“Harry?” James intoned quietly.

 

“I see her,” Harry acknowledged. “But I can’t talk to anybody right now. I need to channel this somewhere.”

 

James nodded, and caught Hermione’s eye as Harry took his arm. “Later,” he mouthed.

 

And then they were gone, with barely a pop.

 

IMBM

 

Ronald Weasley raised an eyebrow at his flustered wife as she came through the Floo to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, where he was minding both shop and children for the day.

 

“What’s up?” he called out. “You’re never here this early.”

 

“Oh, Ron,” Hermione said shakily. “We need to find Harry.”

The other eyebrow joined the first. “What for?” Ron walked to his wife and took her hand. “Isn’t he still out of the country?”

 

“No, no, he’s not,” Hermione said. “He and James arrived at the Ministry today to bring a magical prisoner into our custody for safekeeping, and decided to stop by the Office of Muggle Affairs to register James while they were there. Harry objected to the law about giving the Ministry a sample of his Muggle spouse’s blood, the clerk didn’t understand why, and apparently, he lost his temper when she called James ‘just a Muggle’.” She wrung her hands. “I thought the whole building was going to come down around us for a minute.”

 

“How do you know that’s what happened?” Ron asked reasonably, knowing the gossip chain well.

 

“Kingsley told me,” Hermione said. “He was on the phone with Harry briefly during the exchange, granted an exemption from the blood clause for James. Rather quickly, and in a bit of a mild panic, I believe, because the building was definitely going to go down if he didn’t do something.”

 

“Did Harry say he was bringing the building down?”

 

“No, that’s just it,” Hermione whispered. “He was so angry, his magic was acting out on its own.”

 

“Oh, that’s not good,” Ron allowed. “Did he leave alone, or was James with him?”

 

“James was with him, but we have to find him, Ron,” she said earnestly. “He needs help to calm down.”

 

Ron quirked a grin at her. “Sometimes I forget that you weren’t raised magical, Hermione.”

 

She stared. “What does that have to do with anything?”

 

Ron shook his head, still grinning. “He’s with his bonded. The best way to channel his energy now is with his bonded’s help. We won’t be able to do much for him.”

 

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

 

Ron cleared his throat. “Would you say my mum has a temper, Hermione?”

 

“Yes, but I don’t see …”

 

“My mum needed a lot of help channeling that,” Ron allowed. “Still does. And she has seven children to prove it, if she needs to.”

Hermione stared. “Do you mean…?”

 

Ron laughed. “We definitely want to leave the two of them alone for a while, love. We can text them later.” He put his arms around his wife, and put his mouth next to her ear. “When they’re finally finished.”

 

Hermione drew back. “But James is a non-magical, Ron. How can he help channel Harry’s energy? Won’t that hurt him?”

 

Ron smiled softly. “Magic doesn’t make that kind of mistake, Hermione. James is the one who can best help Harry channel that energy, through copious amounts of sex.” He paused for a moment, and snickered. “Good thing one of them’s not a girl, or they’d definitely get pregnant with that much energy rolling around.”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes and began to relax. “Are you sure, Ron? I’ve never heard of this before, or read about it.”

 

“You wouldn’t, probably,” Ron admitted. “It’s one of those things that’s not really talked about; it’s just known. And it’s never come up for us, because when we get angry, it’s usually at each other, and the make-up sex takes care of any excess energy.”

 

“There really needs to be a class on such things for the magicals not born into the magical world,” Hermione declared firmly. “It’s no wonder so many of us are lost or go back when we can’t even unlock what seems to be a basic tenet of magic!”

 

Ron shrugged, and squeezed her a bit tighter. “We’re a bit prudish about talking sex magic in public, I suppose, and I never really thought about how the new magicals were learning about it. There probably should be a class in it.”

 

Hermione rested her head on Ron’s shoulder. “Will Harry really be OK?”

 

Ron kissed her hair. “He will.”

 

IMBM

 

“God, James, harder,” Harry moaned, bracing his hands against their headboard and pressing back to meet his partner’s thrusts.

 

It was already rough, fast, and hard, but James dug his hands into Harry’s hips and gave him deeper, harder, and faster. They moved together, Harry’s energy moving through them both as James bit the back of Harry’s neck hard, then growled in his ear, “Come now, Harry.”

 

With a scream, Harry released the energy built up inside him along with his life’s fluid, bringing James over with him. They held through the shuddering shocks of climax, and as the last of that energy build-up deserted them both, James wrapped both arms around Q from behind and tilted them on their sides, staying buried inside his spouse.

 

Long minutes passed as they re-acclimated, catching their breath, settling into each other. James felt as if he were floating in a sort of daze. If an enemy approached now, James wouldn’t have the energy to reach for his gun.

 

“Darling, I think you broke me,” he murmured warmly. “And I enjoyed every minute of it.”

 

Harry huffed out a laugh. “You broke me, too, and thank you for it.” He stretched lazily, squeezing around James, who, impossibly, began to thicken back up. “Again?”

 

James shifted minutely, rutting shallowly into his spouse as he hardened in him. “Why not?”

 

IMBM

  
  


“I don’t understand!” Mildred Montiface tearfully exclaimed as she was called to the office of the Minister. “It’s only a bit of blood!”

 

“A bit of the blood of the spouse of the most magically powerful wizard in England,” Kingsley said quietly. “If an enemy got his or her hands on that, there are any number of spells or potions that could be used to control said spouse, and through that spouse, the wizard.”

 

Mildred gasped in shock. “I didn’t even think of that!”

 

“No, you’re just following the law, Ms. Montiface,” Kingsley assured her. “And it’s a law we need to change. I didn’t realize its full implications until Harry’s actions today.” He drew a deep breath. “I’m issuing a decree that we stop taking blood samples from non-magicals, and that we review our current stores and destroy them. I also want to know if any samples are missing, Ms. Montiface. It’s a potential security breach that we need to deal with. I’ll be copying the appropriate departments.”

 

“Yes, Minister,” Mildred said quietly, sniffling a bit.

 

“Go on back to your office, Ms. Montiface,” Kingsley said quietly. “I’ll send the paperwork down.”

 

“Alright, then,” Mildred stood. “Thanks, Minister.”

 

“Of course.”

 

And as soon as mild Mildred Montiface left the Minister’s office, she cursed.


	12. Chapter 12: Housekeeping and reports

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which more paperwork gets taken care of, and M gets a status report.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay folks; I was ill in RL, and that put me behind on my RL job! I try to post at least once a week, normally.

**Ch. 12: Housekeeping**

  
  


Somewhere in London, a group of mundane-born wizards and witches met to discuss the latest Ministry decree.

 

“I still don’t understand why the Ministry reversed itself,” one dark-haired gentleman muttered in an American accent. “We’ve been banking on their discriminatory practices for years. What’s changed now?”

 

Mildred Montiface sniffed. “Harry Potter showed up. His bond-mate is a mundane, and he threw an absolute fit when I asked for his blood.”

 

“Reeaaally,” the American said, drawing the word out into several syllables. “Why hasn’t he shown up before?”

 

Mildred shrugged. “Nobody’s seen him around the Ministry in years.”

 

A gentle-looking blond with a faint French accent leaned forward over her tea. “Where has he been?”

 

“No one seems to know,” Mildred said, dismissively. “The Prophet is making a huge stink over the fact that he hasn’t been seen, actually.”

 

The American looked pensive. “And he has a mundane bond mate? How did that happen?”

 

Mildred picked up her own tea. “No one knows that, either; the bonding was registered as a flash document, which means it was a spontaneous magical event. But we have no details. The formal filing he did yesterday just confirmed the bonding.”

 

“Interesting,” the American said. “But Harry Potter...isn’t he a Pureblood? I mean, I assumed as much because of the whole Chosen One thing.”

 

Mildred perked up. “Actually, it depends upon how you define Pureblood. He has two magical parents, but his mother was mundane born. The rumor is that he was raised by his mundane relatives.”

 

“Why hasn’t he been approached?” the American asked, shrewdly.

 

Mildred looked gobsmacked. “He’s the Ministry’s poster boy!”

“Who hasn’t been seen in the Ministry in years?” The blond scoffed. “I think you’ve missed something there, petite.”

 

Mildred chewed on her lip. “I guess I assumed he’d back the Ministry.”

 

A figure from the shadows near the fireplace spoke quietly. “And why would he?” The voice, male, resonated with sarcasm. “They only declared him ‘Undesirable Number One’ and tried to have him killed in the last war.”

 

“But that was before he took down He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!” Mildred exclaimed. “And he’s friends with the Minister.”

 

“And again, I point out, he hasn’t been seen in the Ministry for years, has yet to make a public statement about his own bonding, hasn’t set foot in the magical public spaces, as far as we know, in the same amount of time,” the shadowed voice pointed out. “I think we can count on the idea that he is NOT the Ministry’s poster boy.”

 

“And, in fact, if what you say is true, Mildred, he was able to reverse a longstanding Ministry practice with one phone call yesterday,” the American said. “A practice, might I add, that we were using to our advantage to recruit.”

 

“I think it safe to say that he is not on general good terms with the Ministry of Magic,” the shadowed man said calmly.

 

“Do you think I should approach him?” Mildred asked. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

 

The figure in the shadows shrugged. “Try Hermione.”

 

The American snorted. “She’s been turning us down for years. All about effecting change from within, that one.”

 

“Not interested in taking over the mundane world, either,” the bond murmured. “Not a power-hungry bone in her body.”

 

“But she is on good terms with Mr. Potter,” the shadowed figure said. “They’ve been friends since they were in Hogwarts. It wouldn’t hurt to approach her to see if we could broker a meeting.”

 

Mildred set her tea down. “Well, I’ll try. Maybe I’ll try to set it up as an apology meeting. You have no idea how angry Harry was this afternoon. I thought he would pull the Ministry down around my ears!”

 

“Is he capable of that?” the American asked, skeptically.

“More than,” the shadowed figure answered. “Rumor is that he’s the most powerful wizard in the world, and if he was on our side …”

 

“Many of our plans could come to fruition much more quickly,” the blond mused.

 

Mildred nodded, though she remained skeptical. “We have to find him, first.”

 

IMBM

 

Feeling lazy, Harry drew a hand down his bondmate’s naked back, just wanting to touch. James leaned closer, and they both sighed.

 

“Out of your system yet?” James drawled quietly, eyes closed.

 

“Mm.” Harry hummed. “Probably.” He cleared his throat and rolled over to stretch out on his back and take stock of his well-used body. “Feels good to feel so bad.” He grinned, thinking about it.

 

James snorted, eyes staying shut. “That it does, my love, that it does.” He conducted a long, slow stretch of his own, rolling to lay on his back beside his bonded. “What time do we have to report to M?”

 

“We were supposed to do it after we dropped Claire at the Ministry, but, well…”

 

James nodded solemnly. “I had to protect the free world from your magical wrath by shagging you into next week.”

 

“Something like that,” Harry acknowledged, grinning. “Thank you for your service, 007.”

 

“Anytime, Q.”

 

A lazy hot shower later, the pair were up and dressed. Q confirmed M was available to see them, and they left for MI6, taking Bond’s Aston Martin just for the change of pace. They stopped for sandwiches on the way, having eaten nothing at home, and needing the fuel after their afternoon. Dusk had settled into full night by the time the pair reported in.

 

M looked up from his desk to see his Quartermaster and agent ready to settle into their spots across from his desk. “Ah, good to see you, Q, 007. Report?”

 

They filled him in on the events at the Ministry, and Q wrapped up with a suggestion. “It seems possible that there’s a campaign to get me back into the public eye as myself,” he pointed out. “It might be a benefit to the mission if I were to let them succeed.”

 

M leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. “Draw them out, perhaps?”

 

“It’s a thought,” Q acknowledged. “007 and I are having a bonding party sort of thing. A friend is hosting it. Her idea was that I’d give the public enough to get them to back off me for a while again, but what if we don’t stop there?”

 

“Use yourself as bait, Q?” James asked, thinking about it.

 

Q shrugged. “Maybe. It’s fairly well known that my mother was mundane born. I’ve never been approached by anyone asking for my help to take over the world … let me rephrase. Since the end of Voldemort, I’ve not been approached to help take over the world.”

 

M didn’t smile, but from the quirk up at the end of his lips, he wasn’t far off from one. “With great power comes great responsibility,” he intoned.

 

Q rolled his eyes. “I’m not Spiderman, but yes, the idea holds. One reason for my service to the whole of Britain, not just to magical England. And a way to keep myself in check.”

 

“Could you, if you chose, take us all over?” M asked curiously.

 

“Not going to happen, so it’s a moot question,” Q evaded.

 

M noted the evasion, let it stand, and vowed to give Q no reason to question his choice. “Work up a plan, then. We’re waiting for 006’s final report. He had a meeting today with the head of the Austin company that should be going on about now. R is overseeing it, with Felix as back up. But the data do suggest a threat that needs to be dealt with. We need to find the leaders, Q.”

 

“I have a few ideas on that, sir. One is to let me myself be bait, possibly recruited. Another is to talk to my old friend, Hermione Granger. She’s Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but she’s also a mundane born. She told me that there have been attempts to recruit her over the years that she’s not taken seriously, and our suspect in custody said under truth serum that Hermione knows who knows where the group meets in London. I plan to talk with her tonight.”

 

“Proceed, then, Q, 007.” M cleared his throat. “And on another matter. HR wants me to remind you to fill out your next-of-kind status forms and other details, as well as register your domestic partnership.”

 

James raised an eyebrow. “How on earth did they come to know about that?”

 

“Apparently, there’s gossip. I did not confirm or deny the partnership, but HR rightly points out that if something were to happen to either one of you, and that such a partnership existed, without the proper paperwork, neither of you could legally be informed. Given the nature of our work …” M trailed off.

 

Q got it. “The danger we’re in on a regular basis.” He looked over at James. “Shall we file more paperwork, dear?”

 

James grinned at him. “May as well, darling. Though half your minions will be crushed with the weight of disappointment at the fact you’re off the market.”

 

Q snorted. “And the other half will cry over you.”

 

M shook his head and sighed. “What does your partnership mean for your mission status, 007?”

 

Q and James looked at each other, and Q nudged him. James looked at Q for a long moment, then answered. “If possible, I’d like to avoid the honeypot missions, M. If a mission should appear to be going in that direction, we’ll handle it, but I’d rather not be assigned missions with seduction as the overt goal.”

 

M nodded. “It shouldn’t be a problem.” He sat back, and added, dryly, “We do have eight other agents who are more than capable.”

 

James smiled briefly. “If it becomes an issue, we might need to negotiate my status as a double-oh, M.”

 

“Understood. Q, your thoughts?”

 

Q cleared his throat. “As I’m not normally in the field at all, I have no problem with not going on honeypot missions.”

 

James laughed out loud, and M raised his eyebrows as far as they could go. “I was referring to your position as James’ partner, Q.”

 

“I know, sir,” Q hesitated. “Frankly, I’d prefer he didn’t, but if it’s between seduction and death, I’d prefer he’d seduce. Magic might not like it, but I’d prefer him alive.”

 

M nodded and relaxed. “A fair assessment. Keep me apprised on all counts as needed.”

 

“Yes, sir.” “Yes, sir.”

 

IMBM

 

The lone HR staffer available handed them a stack of forms. “Off you go, then,” she chirped cheerfully. “Have them back as soon as you can.”

 

“Isn’t this process electronic now?” Q asked.

 

The staffer shook her perky head. “Too easy to hack and change if it’s in a system. We file these in actual paper form, with your signatures, as hard copy backups in locked file cabinets. I’ll input the data into our dedicated terminal, as well, but this way, if something goes sideways with the tech, you’re still covered.”

 

Q, the magical mystery hacker, grinned at her. “Well done.” James rolled his eyes, and the pair sat in the lobby, filling out forms designating each other as medical proxies, next-of-kin, and beneficiaries for the varied and sundry perks that went along with risking their lives every day for Queen and country. Q signed the last one with a flourish, then checked his watch. “I’ll need to stop by the branch and check in with R, and then we just have time to head over to Ron and Hermione’s before they’re off to bed.”

 

James finished the last section of his form. “I need to check my gear in, as well, which I presume I’ll do with R?”

 

“You presume correctly, with the change in status,” Q confirmed. “I’ll still make toys for you, but someone else needs to check them in and out, in order to maintain the equipment inventory fairly.”

 

James signed his last form, too. “That’s that, then. You’re now legally the most important person in my life.”

 

“Mine, too, coincidentally,” Q said with a smirk. He collected James’ forms, and stepped back to the HR desk to hand them over to the perky clerk. “Here you are, then,” he said.

 

“Thank you, gentlemen!” She riffled through them. “All looks in order. I’ll get them input right away.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

IMBM

 

Half an hour later, the pair got back into the Aston Martin for the drive back to Q’s, the better to apparate from there. The drive to Ottery St. Catchpole, where the Granger-Weasley house abutted the property of the Weasley home, was too long to take without magic.

 

“Should have thought that one through,” Q said ruefully as he buckled his seatbelt.

 

“Yes, well, we were blissed out, and I, for one, wanted to drive our baby here,” James replied. “Won’t be long and we can get ourselves situated.”

 

Q reached over to lay a hand on James’ thigh, and smiled contentedly as his partner sailed through traffic to park in his garage spot. They got out, with James locking up, and stepped into a shadowed, warded corner of the garage that Q used especially for this purpose. Q stepped into James’ space, put his arms around him, and twisted.

 

They disappeared without a sound.

 

IMBM

 

Molly Weasley went over the party lists again. Tent? Check. Formal invitations? Check. Pre-Invitations to offer a heads up and a selection of possible dates? Sent. Decorations? Check. Flowers and streamers in blues and greens and would decorate the tent and the grounds, and were ready to go up with one spell. Food? Planned, ordered, and prepared, held in magical stasis and ready to roll at a moment’s notice. Music? Check, with a four-piece string section on standby and a mundane stereo system as back-up.

 

Now, if only the grooms would check in with her, she’d be set.

 

IMBM

 

Alec’s meeting that afternoon had gone off without a hitch, his cover well-established, and he’d picked up a definite sultry vibe from the admin who’d showed him around the place.

 

If needed, he had an in.

  
Meanwhile, he’d enjoy Texas until he was recalled.


	13. Naming the Conspirators

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the main conspirators are unveiled. And parties are planned.

“Well, then, Hermione, we have a few questions for you,” Harry intoned firmly, sternly, and tongue-in-cheek.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I gathered.” She set out the tea cups at her own kitchen table. The children were in bed, and Ron pulled up a chair himself, plopping a plate of chocolate biscuits down in front of their guests. Hermione poured out, and the four doctored their own cups.

“So, the muggleborn are trying to take over the world, are they?” Hermione asked flippantly, trying to disguise her very real concern.

Harry saw right through her. “Apparently so. We’ve uncovered several key players globally, but they meet in London, so we’ve got some jurisdiction to handle the problem here in Britain.”

Hermione nodded. “Where in London?”

James leaned forward. “You tell us, as apparently, you’re the Secret Keeper for their Secret Keeper.”

“What?” Hermione set her cup down. “I’m not …”

“According to a conspirator we’ve got detained at the MOM, you were made the Secret Keeper for a Fidelius performed to hide the secret of who is the Secret Keeper of the original secret location,” Harry explained. “We need to know who the original Secret Keeper is, which should, hopefully, take us one step closer to their London meeting place.”

Hermione sat back in thought, biting her lip. “I don’t recall any sort of formal process whereby I was selected as a Secret Keeper, though.”

James smiled at her. “How about an informal one? Perhaps a discussion with colleagues, over how one might conceal a Secret Keeper?”

Hermione thought back. “Well, there was a conversation once. It was a group of us at work, really, having tea, talking about Fidelius charms. I’ve been fascinated with how that charm actually worked, and I was wondering about security for the Secret Keeper. The biggest flaw, of course, is that the Secret Keeper must be absolutely trustworthy. The betrayal of your parents, Harry, was what made me think of it.”

Harry nodded. “Pettigrew was a traitor, and he paid for it eventually.”

“And I said,” Hermione spoke slowly, trying to recall the conversation. “An added layer of security would be if you had a Secret Keeper for the Secret Keeper.”

“Did you actually cast the charm?” Harry asked.

“Well, it was a bit of a lark, really,” she said. “Millie said she had a group of friends who liked to meet in London, and that only she could tell where they met, and would I mind being her Secret Keeper--just for that secret? She said she wanted to see how many layers of security she could add, just as an experiment.”

“Millie, who?” Harry asked intently.

“Montiface, in Muggle Affairs.”

James looked at Harry. “Isn’t she the one who wanted my blood today?”

Harry looked back grimly. “In fact, she was.”

Hermione looked stricken. “But, it was just a bit of fun.”

“Oh, I think not,” Harry’s eyes narrowed. “We have a muggleborn in the Muggle Affairs office with access to the blood of non-magical partners and a clear, directed need to take it. She used purist language, Hermione, to try and convince me she needed James’ blood.”

“That’s what set you off,” Ron nodded.

“Oh, yes. That, and she seemed clueless about what that blood could be used for, which is unconscionable,” Harry said firmly. “She’s in this up to her eyeballs, and for some reason, wants control of the non-magicals cataloged through her office.”

Hermione firmed her lips, which had begun to tremble. “Over the last few years, I’d get an occasional laughing call or a friendly note asking me for the name of the Secret Keeper for Millie’s circle of friends’ location in London. I’d give it out. I thought it was a joke. I thought …”

Ron covered her hand with his. “You thought you were included.” Harry and Ron looked at each other. The three of them had been nearly inseparable while growing up, but both were well aware that Hermione had missed out on being part of a circle of girlfriends, one that would laugh with her for a bit of fun.

The lack made her a target for a circle who wanted her help.

Harry took her other hand. “Hermione, I’m sorry. I know you only wanted to help out a friend, and I know you were motivated by my story--your best friend’s story. But you’ve been duped. Who else is a part of this circle of ladies you talked to?”

Hermione cleared her throat, and blinked back tears that were threatening. “Well, it’s Millie, and Sally-Ann Perks, and Justine Hall. Those are the girls. And the ones who’ve asked for the secret included Justin Finch-Fletchley. I’ll have a think and see if I can remember anyone else. I know I destroyed the correspondence as I answered it. It didn’t seem important at the time.” She fell silent for a moment, then smiled a bit. “But Harry, you know I never forget anything I read.”

Harry smiled back. “So you know who wrote the notes, don’t you?”

Her smile turned feral. “I do.”

Harry squeezed her hand and pulled out his tablet. “Write them down for me?”

“Absolutely.”

 

IMBM

 

Biscuits crunched, list saved, hugs exchanged, the four made their way out to the back garden, with Ron and Hermione to see James and Harry off.

“Mate, you know you’re welcome by any time,” Ron reminded him. “Mum thinks you’re practically a stranger, even though she’s working over time on the bonding party.”

Harry smacked his own forehead. “We’ve got to go see Molly.”

“Bit late now, but I imagine she’ll be up, agonizing over colour schemes or something,” Ron acknowledged, then looked toward the west, where his parents’ home lay at a distance. “See? Lights on in the windows. Pop over. She’ll smother you with a hug, I daresay.”

James tucked Harry in close to his side. “We could use some smothering. And I’m curious, myself.”

Ron nodded. “Party’s scheduled for Sunday, as a first go-round. If something comes up, of course, we’ve got an alternate date planned.”

“Sunday should be good,” Harry said, looking at his tablet one-handed. “We’re scheduled off unless the planet blows up or something.”

James rolled his eyes. “Let’s not tempt fate, darling.”

Harry peered up at him, green eyes glowing through sooty lashes that batted playfully. “Of course not, dear.”

Hermione threw herself at Harry again for a hug, and he caught her quickly. “If I think of anything else, Harry, I’ll text you.”

Harry squeezed her tight. “I know you will. Thanks, Hermione.” He pulled back and looked at her seriously. “You know I love you, right? That’s not going to change.”

She blinked back tears again. “I love you right back.”

Ron cleared his throat. “And I love the Chudley Cannons.” The other three laughed. “And my work is done.” Satisfied that he’d saved the moment from being too sentimental, Ron kissed his wife’s cheek and wandered into the house.

Hermione kissed Harry’s cheek. “Go see Molly.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry winked at her, drew James’ arm a bit more tightly around his waist, and turned on his heel.

They popped back into existence just on the doorstep of the Burrow, and Harry knocked softly. “Molly-mum? Are you up?”

Molly opened the door, her smile wide and bright. “Harry, dear!” She did, indeed, smother him in one of her patented hugs, then turned her attention to James. “And James, as well.” She hugged him, too. “Come in, come in!”

Arthur looked up from his spot by the fireplace, where he was reading a book and eating a bowl of crisps. “Good evening, boys. What brings you by?”

“Well, I hear--and this might be a rumour, mind--that our bonding party is on Sunday, and that you’ve got all the details,” Harry joked.

“We do, indeed!” Molly said cheerfully. “Want to see?”

“Love to,” James said with a cheery grin of his own.

They spent a pleasant half-hour going over all the party plans while eating apple-plum cake, and Harry and James were more than pleased with Molly’s work.

“This will be splendid,” Harry said, finally. “And barring a major emergency at work, we’re set for Sunday.”

“Good, good.” Molly hugged them both again. “I’m so glad you came by.”

“Us, too,” Harry said, beaming as he returned her hug. James murmured his own goodbyes as he returned a hug, and the pair wandered back out in the Burrow’s lush back garden.

James looked around. “This will look a treat all decked out.”

Harry laced his fingers through James’. “It does.”

They walked to the ward boundaries, joined hands swinging between them, letting the quiet of the garden and the stars overhead soothe away the stress of the mission.

There would be a reckoning tomorrow, Harry knew. They’d have to brief M, and make a plan to break up the council and put a stop to their plans. Knowing the key players now would make that process easier, but the real issue?

Planning wasn’t illegal.

Executing some of their plans would be.

“Conspiracy, Q,” James said quietly. “We can get them for conspiracy.”

“I’ll have to check in with the ICW. There’s got to be something we can use to legally detain these people before any of these plots take effect,” Q replied, and looked up. He gazed into the night sky for a moment, and huffed to himself. “Mars is bright tonight.”

“The planet of war,” James commented, then looked at his bondmate. “We’ll figure this out, darling.”

“I know, dear. I know.” He stepped into James’ space, put his arms around him, then twisted.

 

IMBM

 

M looked over the assembled data. They had solid evidence that a conspiracy by magicals to take over the non-magical world not only existed, but was actively engaged in executing a plan to do so. They had the names of the conspirators, though not the location of their meeting place, and they had evidence of multiple small plots to corner and control specific parts of the non-magical population.

“This is precisely the kind of threat that we eliminate through this office,” M observed. He turned to look at Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was spending his morning at MI6, going through the same data.

Kingsley looked horrified. “Moving against the muggleborn will set our society back significantly.”

M shook his head. “It doesn’t look like the entire muggleborn population is a part of it. Just a key few in specific positions.”

“But how will it look to the outsider?” Kingsley wondered aloud. “We’re only just starting to change purist policies and politics. This is a powderkeg.”

“And one that you’ll have to deal with, I imagine,” M said dryly, “as such a conspiracy cannot be allowed to continue. We’ll need to eliminate the key players.”

If possible, Kingsley looked even more horrified. “Kill them?”

M raised an eyebrow. “That’s what a double-oh is for, Shacklebolt. To eliminate threats to national security that can’t be contained by other means.” He stood and walked over to the large plasma screen in his office that displayed security images, from CCTV cameras, of the players listed by Hermione Granger-Weasley. “At minimum, we need to question these people. If that’s too obvious a move by the magical government, then we, as the non-magical government, need to make it. We’ll take responsibility. It’s our world we’re protecting, after all.”

Kingsley blew out a breath. “Magicals will have a very difficult time with your interference.”

“Not if they don’t know about it,” M said calmly. “We’ll give magicals something else to distract them while we, MI6, move in on the conspirators.”

“What could possibly distract them?”

M smiled pleasantly. “Harry Potter’s bonding party.”

 

IMBM

 

Q would be much more annoyed if he didn’t understand precisely why the publicity was necessary.

“So, to be clear: you’re going to plan an operation that apprehends the key conspirators in their spaces around the world, using non-magical agents, to coincide with our bonding party. The goal to distract the magicals from noticing that several of their muggle-born number are disappearing.”

M nodded. “Shacklebolt’s not precisely pleased, but it seems like the best idea to allow the non-magical world to defend itself against the conspirators. And to keep the entire operation classified from the magicals, to avoid negating much of the good that has been done in recent years to curb blood purists.”

“It’s logical,” Q admitted, and looked at James. “But I don’t know how you intend to take magicals into custody. They’re wiley.”

“I thought, perhaps, you might have some ideas on the subject,” M said.

Q thought. “Maybe one or two.” He tapped James’ platinum bracelet. “Seduction. And dampeners.”

“Double-oh Six is still in Texas, and reports that the apparent leader there is amenable to his romantic intentions,” James pointed out. “Best to leave him in place.”

“Wonder how a seduction of Miss Mildred Montiface might go?” Q mused aloud. “We could try to schmooze the secret location out of her.”

“If we want to use your bonding party as a distraction, Q, that leaves us little time for seduction,” James pointed out. “Especially a focused seduction.”

“Secret Keepers cannot be forced to reveal a secret; they can only give it of their own free will…” Q trailed off. “Oh, now that’s an idea.”

M raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Hermione could take Justin Finch-Fletchley up on his offer to meet with like-minded individuals. Mildred would have to give her the location where they meet. Better yet, she could just talk to good ol’ Millie about meeting with her friends.” Q thought it through. “She’s probably the best placed to get that secret without needing to resort to something elaborate.”

“Bring her in, then, Q.”

“Yes, sir.”

 

 


	14. Hermione Undercover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione plays a starring role.

**Chapter 14: Hermione UnderCover**

  
  


“Are you sure this is safe, Harry?” Ron asked, concerned, as he watched his wife get “wired up”.

 

The original “Golden Trio” stood in Ron and Hermione’s sitting room, getting Hermione ready for lunch with Mildred Montiface, who had unexpectedly invited her out with friends. Harry supposed, as his connection to Hermione was well-known, that “Millie” wanted the dirt on how he felt about the Ministry now. Or something to that effect. At any rate, since it played into their plans to get Hermione to talk to Millie, they were going with it.

 

“As sure as I can be, Ron.” Harry hummed under his breath as he affixed a beetle-shaped platinum pin to Hermione’s rust-colored robes. “This will mask the electronics inside and allow us to pick up their conversation.”

 

“A beetle? Really, Harry?” Hermione asked as she looked at the small, pretty thing, which even had horrible etched markings for eyeglasses on it.

 

Harry winked at her. “I couldn’t resist the homage to our least favorite reporter.” He straightened it out. “Now, Hermione, don’t be a hero. Just chat her up.”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I leave the hero work to you two. I’m a mother, now, you know.”

 

“Yeah, to my children, wife, so I’ll back Harry up on this,” Ron said seriously. “We weren’t the only ones on our adventures.”

 

“I’d say there’s a good deal of hero there, myself,” Harry allowed. “Hence the warning. Just join her for lunch, work the conversation over to her friends, make noises about needing intellectual conversation with like-minded individuals. See if you can get a location out of her. Failing that, arrange a meeting with me, if you can.”

 

“May I remind you that I am, in fact, the deputy head of the DMLE?” Hermione shook her head at the fussing pair. “I’ll get you what you need, Harry.”

 

“You’re a treasure, Hermione,” Harry bowed elaborately and kissed her fingers.

 

“Please stop,” Ron begged. “You remind me too much of the twins when you do that.”

 

Harry smirked. “Yes, well, once a Marauder, always a Marauder.”

 

“This is not a joke, boys,” Hermione said sternly.

 

“Yes, ma’am.” “Yes, ma’am.” They said in unison.

 

Hermione sighed.

 

IMBM

 

Diagon Alley bustled with life as Hermione popped into the apparition point near the back entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. Harry and Ron had flooed to WWW to monitor her conversation, while James was spending his morning at MI6, going over contingency plans with M and the other agents who would be aiding in pulling the key leaders off the streets and into custody. Severus had joined him.

 

Hermione drew a deep breath, forced a welcoming smile, and strode into the dim light of the Leaky, looking for Millie. She looked around a bit before spotting her in a corner booth with two other people: Justin Finch-Fletchley and a woman she didn’t know. Hermione made her way over to the booth and slid in next to Justin. “Hello, all. Justin, it’s nice to see you. It’s been some time.”

 

“It has,” Justin said with a cordial smile and an extended hand. “How have you been, Hermione?”

 

“I’m well, thank you. And who’s this?” Hermione nodded to the unknown woman sitting next to Millie.

 

“Louise Brealey,” Millie jumped in. “Louise, this is Hermione Granger-Weasley. She and Justin went to school together at Hogwarts, and Hermione and I occasionally work together at the Ministry.”

 

“A pleasure,” Louise said politely, shoving her long dark hair behind her ear.

 

The four chatted for a minute, ordering the lunch special, and settling into their conversations as they ate their shepherd’s pie. Millie waited until Hermione was nearly half done with her plate before appearing to fidget a bit, then blurting out, “Hermione, has Harry Potter been to talk to you recently?”

 

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Of course. He was livid after his stop at the Ministry. Honestly, I didn’t even know we collected the blood of mundane spouses here. I’m so glad Kingsley put a stop to it.”

 

“How did Harry get a muggle spouse, anyway?” Justin asked, quirking an eyebrow of his own.

 

Hermione smiled. “They met through work, hit it off, and, well, apparently magic decided they were compatible, because the bonding took them both by surprise. Harry, of course, thinking a spontaneous magical bonding would be near impossible with a mundane.”

 

“And they’re sure his bonded is mundane, are they?” Louise inquired.

 

“As they can be,” Hermione assured them. “Harry conducted the spells himself.”

 

“What is Harry doing for work these days, anyway?” Justin slipped the question into conversation adroitly.

 

“Oh, he works for the British government in some capacity,” Hermione said vaguely.

 

Millie gasped theatrically. “He works for the muggles?”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Millie, stop. You know you’re a muggleborn yourself. And Harry isn’t in anyway a purist, as you might have guessed to his reaction at the Ministry the other day. He slipped out of the magical community after Voldemort’s fall on purpose. He was raised by mundanes, you know.”

 

“I don’t think that’s widely known, actually,” Louise popped in. “I’m muggleborn, and I always thought the Boy-Who-Lived was a Pureblood.”

 

“Not sure where anyone got that,” Hermione said skeptically. “He defeated Voldemort; he didn’t buy into his politics at all. And, at any rate, Harry prefers to be kept out of the Ministry and the magical world.”

 

“I really don’t understand why,” Millie said. “He’s practically an icon here. He’s famous!”

 

Hermione shook her head wryly. “And that would be why. The public has always loved him one day, hated him the next. They’re incredibly fickle, and they seem to think he owes them something. Which he absolutely doesn’t. Saving them from megalomaniacal dark lords twice in one lifetime was more than enough to ask of anyone, in my opinion.”

 

“Well, he’s not alone in wanting to spend more time in the other world than in the magical, that’s certain,” Justin said thoughtfully. “Do you suppose he’d like to meet up with some of the rest of us who feel the same?”

 

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat, but she gave no outward sign of her inner anxiety. “Like who?”

 

“Oh, me. Maybe Millie here. Louise. Even you’re welcome, Hermione.” Justin stretched a bit. “We meet every Friday for drinks and conversation.”

 

“I can talk to Harry,” Hermione acknowledged. “It might be nice to touch base with the mundane side of life for a bit. Where are you meeting?”

 

Millie smiled. “My group of friends and I meet at 4123 New Cavendish Street, London. It’s a renovated brownstone we use sort of as a clubhouse.”

 

Hermione smiled. “This Friday then?”

 

Justin nodded. “Yes; most of us are there about 7.”

 

“Sounds lovely.” Hermione wiped her mouth. “I’ll let you know, Millie, if Harry can make it, and check to see if Ron is willing to watch our children that night. It’ll be nice to have an evening of adult conversation.”

 

“Lovely,” Millie said.

 

IMBM

 

Harry shook his head slowly. “Girl’s still got it. That was almost too easy.”

 

“As if they were looking to recruit you?” Ron nodded. “Sure sounded like it. At least, it does if you know what’s underneath the whole thing.”

 

“Hermione does oblivious in social situations very well,” Harry observed. “But she’s really not, and that’s their mistake.”

 

The pair listened as Hermione said her farewells, then strolled out to Diagon Alley and headed for the Ministry.

 

IMBM

 

James, Severus, M, and R laid out a plan to pull the known players in the conspiracy from their locations on Sunday afternoon, just as James and Harry’s bonding party was in full swing.

 

James could not take part, for obvious reasons, nor could Q. R would be running the technical portion of the ops. Severus would make an appearance at the party, but pop out to quietly take the head of the Australian company into custody, using magic dampening bracelets and a quick Portkey. They’d spoken to Parvati and the Serpentine, who would collect Hussein at the factory. Alec made a date with the admin in Texas, who he’d determined was the real threat there, and he’d simply wine and dine her into custody on Sunday afternoon. One by one, they identified the leaders globally, and set their agents up to be in place.

 

A phone call from Q interrupted their planning meeting.

 

M put him up on the plasma screen in his office, on a video conference call.

 

“Q, what news have you?”

 

“Hermione and I have been invited to a meeting of muggleborn Friday night in London,” Q said without preamble. “We have the location; I’m unable to text it or tell it to you as I’m not the Secret Keeper. However, I was listening in to the conversation in which Mildred Montiface told the secret to Hermione.”

 

“Are there really no provisions in this secret keeping spell that adjust for listening devices?” M wondered allowed.

 

Severus smirked. “Not for mundane listening devices, at any rate.”

 

M shook his head. “Magicals really underestimate the rest of the world, don’t they?”

 

Q cleared his throat. “As it’s Wednesday now, that gives us two days to prep for a meeting and confirm the players, along with their intent. Depending upon the scope of the thing, Hermione and I may be able to take them all into custody, and we should run a planning scenario for that.”

 

M nodded. “We’ll continue to run the planning for the global ops as well, as back up. We might not scoop everybody up on Friday night.”

 

“It would be nice to have a bonding party without the op hanging over our heads, though,” James commented.

 

“Best laid plans, 007,” M reminded him. “Best to have back-ups of back-ups.”

 

Severus nodded grimly. “Let’s get to work, then.”

 

Q’s phone beeped, and he read the screen. “Oh, clever catch, Mione.”

 

“What?” James asked.

 

“If the location was truly under Fidelius, then Hermione would not be able to tell me the location. I only know it because I was listening in,” Q explained. “Hermione decided to try and tell the location to another party, George, as a simple test to see if the Fidelius was true. She couldn’t say it, so it stands to reason that it’s a true Fidelius. That said, Hermione notes that she would theoretically not be able to tell me where to meet her, so she needs to meet with Millie again.”

 

“Would Ms. Montiface know that?” M asked.

 

“She would,” Q acknowledged. “It’s some sort of test, I imagine.”

 

Severus raised an eyebrow. “One Ms. Granger-Weasley will pass, I presume?”

 

Q, busily texting Hermione back, nodded absently. “I’m going to tap into her pin again when she goes so we have ears on her.” He exchanged a few texts with Hermione, then went to the computer he’d set up in the room and pulled up the feed from Hermione’s platinum pin, which she’d taken to wearing out of habit. “Here.”

 

Muted sounds filled the room through the machine’s speakers, filtered over the video feed from Q’s position. Hermione was apparently striding toward the Office of Muggle Affairs, exchanging occasional greetings with others. The men heard her open the door to Millie’s office, greet her, then say, a bit irritably, “So, Millie, how am I to bring Harry along on Friday if I can’t tell him the address?”

 

Millie’s theatrical gasp of surprise would never win a BAFTA, James thought, as he listened in.

 

“Oh, Hermione, I’d forgotten. That’s under Fidelius. Remember? We were playing around with Secret Keeping at lunch that one day? That’s the secret.” The men heard fumbling on Millie’s desk, the knocking over of an ink well and a hurried catch of it. “Here, let me write the address down for you.”

 

“Appreciated,” Hermione said. “Harry’s likely to just write the whole thing off and go about his business if it’s over complicated.”

 

Millie’s fake laugh punctuated the scribbling of her pen. “Oh, that wouldn’t do, would it?” Silence. Then, “Who did you try to tell?”

 

“My husband,” Hermione said glibly. “He wanted to know where I’d be in case of an emergency with the children on Friday.”

 

“Oh, of course,” Millie said, and the sound of ripping paper was heard. “Here you go. Just show that to Harry, and to Ron, of course.”

 

“Thanks, Millie. Can I bring anything Friday?”

 

“Oh, just yourself, this once,” Millie confirmed. “If you join us more often, we’ll put you in the rotation for snacks.”

 

Hermione laughed softly. “Good to know.” The men heard footsteps, and the sound of a door opening. “See you Friday, Millie!”

 

They heard a door close, and more footsteps as Hermione made her way back to her own office.

 

Q’s phone beeped. He read off a text. “All clear, she says,” Q repeated. He looked up at the room. “Thoughts?”

 

“Your friend is clever,” M murmured. “An obvious thing, to let her husband know where she is in case of emergency. Plausible, simple, and likely true.”

 

“Not too mention, completely in character,” James added. “Q is more likely to blow off social interaction if it’s complicated.”

 

“Well done, indeed,” Severus agreed softly. “And, we know have the secret, written on paper, to show a team of arresting officers, should we choose to use it.”

 

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” Q said brightly. He closed out the terminal he’d set up in WWW with a few keystrokes, then started packing it up. “I’ll be back at the branch in 10. Anything I can do for you while I’m out, gentlemen?” He turned to face the screen again.

M shook his head. “No. Just bring yourself back so we can brief you on our back up plans for Sunday.”

 

“With luck, M, we’ll take out the main players on Friday night,” Q acknowledged. “But the back-ups are important.”

 

Severus nodded. “When will you meet up with Ms. Granger-Weasley?”

 

“Dinner tonight,” Q said. “James and I are being visible with dinner out this evening among the Weasleys.”

 

“Black tie, darling?” James asked with a wink.

 

“Not even close, dear,” Q said, deadpan. “See you in a few.” The screen blinked off.

 

James looked back at M and Severus. “So, time to plan a Friday night battle, then?”

 

“Gives us two days,” M said.

 

“Let’s get to it,” Severus agreed.


	15. The Tip of the Iceberg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which conspirators are arrested.

**Chapter 15: The Tip of the Iceberg**

 

Dinner out with the Weasleys had been fun, even with the hordes of Harry Potter admirers attempting to storm the table for autographs. James’ presence, while acknowledged, was largely dismissed by such admirers. The menacing factor, as Harry called it, was somewhat negated by the magical easy dismissal of a non-magical as a potential threat.

 

It was a blind spot, as Harry pointed out, but it worked in their favor.

 

Still, the group had fun, Harry and James were seen, and the Daily Prophet’s gossip column was appeased, especially as news of their Sunday bonding party was added in.

 

Privately, Harry told James, that tidbit of gossip ought to appease the public for a few weeks, at any rate.

 

More attention was being paid to the op planned for Friday night.

 

The plan, as discussed ad nauseum in the halls of MI6, was for Harry and Hermione to simply knock on the front door, go in, and take part in the meeting. Harry would assess the threat of the people in the room, compare them to the known identities of the interest group, and alert James when those identities were confirmed, via a warm pulse from his bonding bracelet. Hermione would covertly place magic dampeners in each room the group entered; Harry, too, had a supply of dampeners in case the pair were split up. James and his trusted team of MI6 operatives that included Severus would enter the premises at Harry’s signal, subdue the persons of interest and take them into custody to be interviewed and sorted out. The slip of paper on which Millie had written the address had been passed around to the elite team, and to M, so that all would be able to see the place.

 

With luck, the main players would all be in attendance.

 

Alec had reported that his player had refused a Friday night date with him, making the excuse of “standing plans with a group of old friends.” He had reason to believe his target would be in attendance in London.

 

As the time approached on Friday night, Harry dressed carefully, in favorite gray trousers and a nice green sweater, and made sure to put his “Harry Potter” glasses on.

 

“I’m not ashamed to admit I feel a bit like Clark Kent at the mo,” he commented idly to his partner, who was just adjusting the weapons harness he wore over the all-black covert uniform dress.

 

“Get rid of the glasses and you’re superhero, darling?” Bond asked with a smirk, re-checking his gun.

 

Harry shrugged. “Actually, it’s with the glasses in the magical world.” He adjusted said glasses one more time. “Ready, dear?”

 

“As ever, darling.”

 

IMBM

 

Harry and Hermione strolled up to the front of the residence precisely on time, chatting about the bonding party on Sunday to both keep up appearances and to keep down nerves. Hermione held Harry’s arm as they approached the door, and he raised the knocker.

 

Justin Finch-Fletchley greeted them as he opened it. “Harry! Good to see you, mate. Hermione, glad you could make it.” He gestured them in. “Join us in the sitting room for drinks?”

 

“Sure,” Harry said. “Justin, it’s good to see you. What have you been doing with yourself?”

 

Harry kept Justin’s attention as they chatted, and Hermione placed the first dampener in a potted plant in the spacious foyer. Justin led them to the first door on the right of the foyer, more of an archway, and led them in. “Look who’s here!” Justin exclaimed cheerfully.

The room contained several people, and Harry could tell at a glance that they were all on his lists. Justin led the introductions, and as each introduced themselves, Harry mentally checked them off. All but one of the players on his top ten most likely were in the room, plus a few who weren’t on the list. He and Hermione were led to seats on a comfortable sofa, and Hermione slid one of the dampeners into its cushions as they sat.

 

“Drinks?” Justin asked.

 

“Guinness, if you have it,” Harry said with a smile.

 

“Cider and black for me,” Hermione said.  “No children tonight.”

 

Several others chuckled. “I know precisely what you mean,” a thick-set woman, with pretty features and gentle smile, said. “Mine are at home with their father tonight as well.”

 

Harry assessed the situation. Magic dampeners in place in foyer and sitting room, and all players were here. If any tried to use magic now, though, their position might be compromised. He rubbed his bonding bracelet with one hand, sending the pulse to James, as he chatted idly with the group.

 

As a crash came from the foyer, members of the crowd jumped up, and for a moment, all was chaos. Harry and Hermione stayed precisely where they were, but others reached for their wands, panicking when their magic didn’t come to their aid as it was called. Others rushed for the archway into the foyer and were met with quick action by the black-uniformed elite agents, who quickly took them down and zip-tied their wrists in lieu of cuffs, allowing other team members to slip into the chaos in the sitting room and subdue the other attendees.

 

It did not take long for the team to have the attendees trussed up in the foyer and hollering about their rights. James stepped up to look at the group and gave a loud whistle to shut them up.

 

“Do I have your attention?” he asked pleasantly.

 

Low muttering greeted him.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?” James looked to his bonded, who appeared in the doorway, Hermione close behind him. “Would you like the honors, darling?”

 

Harry grinned. “Right.” He looked down at the lot. “You are all under arrest for conspiracy, treason, breaking the International Statute of Secrecy, Muggle-baiting, and other such charges as applies to your individual situations. Under the laws of the International Confederation of Wizards, your only right under these charges is to a fair hearing and trial within your respective nations’ governments or in Great Britain.

 

“You will be detained in magic suppressing cells in the Ministry of Magic while the investigation continues, and you will each be interviewed with Veritaserum to determine the nature and depth of your role in the conspiracy. Should your interviews determine your innocence, you will be released with an Unbreakable Vow to avoid engaging in said activities in the future.”

 

He paused, taking in the stricken and astonished faces of the people around them. Justin looked furious. “As you are being arrested for crimes against both the magical and non-magical communities, you will be charged in the appropriate venue for the appropriate crimes. You will not be charged twice for the same offense. Do you all understand your rights and this procedure?”

 

Mumbled affirmations could be heard, and Justin burst out, “But you can’t try us as Muggles! We’re magical! That’s purist!”

 

Harry looked at him impassively. “Under terms worked out between the magical and non-magical governments of Great Britain and participating countries in the ICW, wizards accused of crimes against non-magicals may be charged by the non-magical government that oversees the location in which the crimes were committed, with the full cooperation of the magical government. The ICW, in talks this week, agreed to allow Great Britain jurisdiction in this case because your meetings were being held on British soil, and the British Ministry of Magic has agreed to support the non-magical government in its actions against a conspiracy threatening all non-magicals.” He gestured to the black-uniformed MI6 elite.

 

Justin’s jaw dropped. “They can’t do that! They’re breaking their own statute!”

 

Harry shook his head negatively. “They amended the treaty, recognizing the greater threats posed to the non-magical public without that cooperation, and recognizing the value of the non-magical public to all. It was signed this morning.”

 

IMBM

 

The subdued and shocked group went quietly into the black vans parked at the curb, with Q’s magic suppressing bracelets an added accessory.

 

“We’re missing one from your top ten list,” James commented quietly, at Q’s side.

 

Q nodded. He’d taken the glasses off, putting “Harry Potter” away for the moment. “I know. But I think we know where to find him. Right where we left him in Australia. I’ve sent a team to pick him up.”

 

James took Q’s hand and rubbed the back of it thoughtfully. “Are you alright?”

 

“Maybe.” Q turned his hand and laced his fingers with James’. “I’m afraid that this is just the tip of the iceberg, 007.” He sighed. “There’s so much anger and hate on all sides. Crimes like this seem inevitable.”

 

“Most of the people in the world live their entire lives, angry or not, without turning to crime,” James reminded him. “It’s individual choice that spurs the criminal on, regardless of circumstance.”

 

“True,” Q conceded. “But cultural conditions don’t help. Voldemort left a lot to be answered for.”

 

The pair watched as the last of the group, the mother who’d idly chatted with Harry and Hermione, climbed into the van, tears streaming down her face. Hermione was talking to the driver; she’d be the one directing intake at the MOM.

 

“I guess we’re all going to be picking up the pieces for a long time,” Q said softly. “There are no winners here.”

 

 


	16. A bit of closure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which new directions are charted, and celebrated.

**Chapter 16: Closure**

 

Hermione, as the deputy head of the DMLE, spent most of her weekend in interrogation, questioning the prisoners under Veritaserum to uncover other connections and micro-plots within the overall scheme to bring the mundane world firmly under the control of the magical. Alec, returned from Texas, also took his turn at interrogation to represent MI6.

 

The resulting deluge of information would keep Q and MI6 busy for weeks, dismantling or overseeing power changes in companies around the world that had been led into the plot. In most cases, mundane executives who stepped into the open positions were simply told that their predecessors had run afoul of the law.

 

The companies would be monitored for some time, to ensure they were running smoothly and legally. And MI6 and the MOM were in talks to create policies for working together in the field, under the auspices of the ICW, which was trying to come to terms with the need for magicals and non-magicals to work together.

 

Martin Prescott was personally arrested by Severus Snape, who then reviewed the man’s potions research and discovered he was very, very close to creating the airborne Imperius derivative that would have been the cornerstone of the plot to take over the non-magical world. The research lab would be destroyed; the company would be restructured.

 

Severus was assigned a long-term mission to investigate the potions already on the non-magical market to determine their validity, use and marketability. The ICW sanctioned the work as part of the steps it was taking to work better with the non-magical world.

 

The ripple effects of the conspiracy would be felt for some time.

 

But on that first sunny Sunday at the Burrow after the mass arrest, more personal priorities took precedence.

 

IMBM

 

“The yard looks lovely, Molly-mum,” Harry said as he kissed Molly’s cheek. He wore his trademark glasses along with black dress robes trimmed in green. James had been persuaded to wear robes, too, trimmed in blue.

 

“I’m so glad you like it,” Molly exclaimed. “Without your personal input, you know, it’s always a bit of a shot in the dark.”

 

“We liked what you had to say when we talked, Molly, and the results are stunning,” James added a kiss of his own to Molly’s other cheek. “And I can’t wait for a slice of that cake I see towering out there.”

 

Pops of apparation were sounding from outside the Burrow’s wards, which were primed to allow only those with a formal invitation to cross them. Laughter filled the backyard as members of the original Order of the Phoenix, their families and friends appeared. Though Molly had kept the invitees to known friends of the couple, their families had grown so that a substantial number of people filled the backyard. A number of children were giggling their way through games of tag in the orchard.

 

A tired-looking Hermione simply collapsed into a chair in the living room after she came through the Floo there. “Anyone up for a vacation?” she asked plaintively.

 

Harry laughed. “Not for us, not any time soon, I’m afraid.”

 

Hermione nodded. “There’s a great deal to do.”

 

“No shop talk!” Molly admonished. “Harry, dear, you and James should go along and get the dancing started.”

 

“Dancing?” Harry looked at his spouse. “I don’t dance.”

 

James laughed. “You do today.”

 

The couple headed for the back garden, Harry nodding to the musicians setting up their instruments. “Looks like Molly’s gone for a Ceilidh,” he whispered to James.

 

“Well, why not?” James reasoned, as the first beats of the bodhran sounded and the pipes and fiddles joined in. James held a hand out to his partner. “Shall we?”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I make no apologies for the state of your feet afterwards.”

 

“Noted.” James smirked as he counted off the steps and led Harry reeling away to start the dancing. Other couples joined in as the singer stepped up with a _Sonorous_ and started belting out the words to the old step-song. The yard filled with laughing dancers and giggling children, happy in the midsummer sunshine.

 

IMBM

 

As dusk fell, a word from Molly stopped the music, and the group lined up to devour the full buffet, spread with global and local treats from both the magical and non-magical worlds. Fairies danced in the shadows, bringing light to the gathering dark, as friends ate and talked.

 

Ron finished his plate, then tapped his glass to make it ring, and stood. “Attention, all. I have been assured by my good friend Harry that if he’d had an actual wedding ceremony, I would have been his best man. I’ve decided that it falls to me, then, to make an actual toast at this reception for his bonding.”

 

“Oh, --” Harry’s quiet exclamation was quickly covered up by a louder Ron.

 

“And so, I can tell you stories, friends, about a speccy little sprout on a train to Hogwarts who had no idea about anything and everyone in the magical world. I can tell you about trolls and chess sets, snakes and Grims, a Goblet of Fire and his first date.”

 

“Please don’t.” Harry said very, very quietly.

 

Ron heard anyway. “I won’t talk about your first date, Harry. I wouldn’t do that to Parvati. Oi, Parvati!”

 

Parvati looked up from her place at a table with her sister and her Hogwarts friends. “Oh, I have nothing to say about that, either,” she said firmly, with a bit of a grin.

 

Harry covered his face with his hands, and James laughed as Ron continued. “We had good times, mate. And we had bad, as bad as it gets.” A somber quiet fell over the crowd as Ron paused, letting everyone reflect on the war with Voldemort. “We lost you for a minute there, mate. And even though you came back to us, and you did what you had to do, I could see that it was killing you. I know the work you do is important, but I worried about you. I knew you weren’t completely happy.

 

“Since James has come into your world, though, you’ve been happy. It’s written all over you, every time I see you. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.” Ron raised his glass. “To Harry and James!”

 

“Harry and James!” the crowd roared back, and downed their beverages as one. Elves popped up to refill glasses as Ron sat down and Alec stood up. He, too, looked tired, but his eyes twinkled as he took in the sight of his oldest friend in the world, content next to Harry.

 

“As Ron has been Harry’s best friend since he was 11, I have been James’ best friend since we were teens,” Alec began. “The stories I could tell would curl your toenails.”

 

“We should market that, mate,” George shouted out to titters and chuckles.

 

Alec laughed. “My friend James hasn’t had an easy life, but he’s been devoted to his country, lived a life of loyalty and service. He’s a dedicated man, a good man to have at your back in a fight. And now that he’s got Harry, he’s a happy man, too.” Alec paused. “That’s all any of us need, in the end. Harry is James’ happiness, and I’m glad you’ve found each other. Harry and James!”

 

“Harry and James!” came the cry and toast.

 

Harry and James stood, and looked out at the crowd. Harry grinned. “Thanks,” he said simply. “We’re glad you could be here to celebrate with us today.”

 

James grinned out at the crowd, too. “And thank you for welcoming me into Harry’s family of friends. We’re honored to be here.”

 

George shouted, “Kiss him, already!”

 

And with hoots, catcalls, and the ringing of glasses echoing in his ears, James bent to lay his lips softly on Harry’s.


End file.
